Heroes of Might and Magic
by WisdomOfCelestials
Summary: A remake of my old story. I felt that it was too kiddish so I decided to make this one. pairings: Percy/Annabeth Jason/Piper Frank/Hazel Leo/Calypso Will/Nico Harry/Hermione Zia/Carter Walt/Sadie . There a few OC's as well. ULTRA-Overpowered OC. After the Blood of Olympus and after the Kane Chronicles and set during Goblet of Fire.Spewbashing probably some ronbashing
1. Prologue

**_Hey there . If anyone had read my old story . This is a remake of that . And it is probably really better . I have added backstories , better plot control and such ._**

 _ **And for the 1st time : I do not own anything in this story except my OC's . I Definitely do not own Harry Potter Or Percy Jackson nor The Kane Chronicles.**_

 _Prologue_

3rd Person Point of View of OC

He flew his dragon around the castle-town of Yorel . He was weary . He sat on his dragon listening to the townsfolk singing Dies Irae. They regarded him as their lord. He was weary of battle and weary of life. He still had nightmares about the Last Alliance. He remembered it extremely well for he and his dragon were the few survivors of it.

 _Flashback_

 _He and his fellow heroes had massive armies at their back as they were entering Sheogh to end the demon threat once and for all but they had not bargained to face an army a 100 times their size. He remembered casting spells without depleting his mana and using his sword: The Angelic Alliance to go through their army of imps , magogs , Succubae , cerberi ,Fire Lords, Pit Fiends, Arch Devils and numerous enemy heroes. For every 100 enemies he killed with one stroke of his sword a 1000 seemed to take their place._

 _His army was fighting valiantly, of course they would, for they were the greatest army in all of Ashan ,Enroth and Erathia. And he, he was not the most feared warlock for nothing. He was the only warlock ever to be able to master every skill. He was over 8000 years old but it did not faze him at all. Finally he had to resort to something which he had hoped not to do. He started chanting the spell for Armageddon. This was not a spell that would devastate the world but rather would kill every soldier on the battlefield but would not affect heroes and a few of their most powerful creatures._

 _Most Of his creatures which were immune to magic had already died but had taken down more than 40000 enemy creatures apiece. Only his favourite dragon: Imperium whom he had kept as a friend and steed was alive. He Had looked after Imperium ever since Imperium was nothing but a Hatchling now Imperium was 4000 years old and was fearsome. He was one of the few Darkness Dragons in the world. While He was chanting the spell,Imperium would shoot fire and claw and bite enemies._

 _Then the sky started to shake. Kha -Beleth himself had appeared with his servant Puga a odd Misshapen creature with a pug's head and rope like fingers and a decaying body. Kha- beleth however was truly fearsome, wearing armor which was demon red and holding a gigantic greatsword. Kha - beleth and Puga were slaughtering their own army to just get to the spell worked. If the sky had been crumbling before it was nothing compared to now, it was now completely red and was cracked like those tectonic plates the earth druids keep saying existed. Meteors fell everywhere obliterating all the armies and leaving the friends of mine who had not fallen unscathed. Puga had teleported away but Kha- Beleth was barely alive._

 _He took out his sword and said "This Is for killing my army , ravaging countries and killing so many innocents." He stabbed Kha Beleth with Angelic Alliance and he exploded in a fiery supernova of magic and the last remnant of the demon race were extinguished .This was one of the few instances genocide was extremely good for the world. Puga was not of the demon race but an evil necromancer with high skills in his fields. Puga had phased out of this dimension and he vowed to hunt him down._

 _End Flashback_

 _1st Person Point of View of OC_

I was going to the council of heroes for an ancient portal had reactivated and Malassa herself had given a quest to go through the portal. All the living Heroes from the Last Alliance were attending. They included Thamketh,An Elementalist; Hullahith, A Mage who were good friends of mine and several others. They sat down at the Grand Table Of Heroes and started introducing each other as was formal custom.

Hullahith, said "I am Hullahith , Grand Mage of the Silver Cities, Tamer and Master of the Wind Zykraim which was terrorizing the Great Bonspiel Desert, Master of Wind and Earth Magic, Owner of Tar-GlIlsim's Lost Robes ,Wielder of Tar-Ministir's Staff ,Survivor of the Last Alliance, Lord of Hullatun and the honorary PindaRaja of Tar-Zyket's University."

Thamketh said "I am Thamketh, Master Elementalist, Master of Earth, Water , Air , Fire, Magma, Ice, Energy, Storm , Psychic and Magic elementals of the 4th plane. Master of Earth and Nature Magic. Master Healer .Master of the Last Gold Dragon. Lord of the Green Isles. Wielder of Sylvanna's Wrath, User Of Sylvanna's cloak and Owner of Glidralil's Robes and Chief Druid of the Shaman Community."

I said "I am Darshan, Master of All magic, King of the kingdom of Ygg-Chall and Lightoren, Lord of Dark Elves , Master of The Darkness Dragon, Slayer of Kha-Beleth, Sky-Burner, The Ancient One of the Wraiths , Wielder of the Angelic Alliance ,User of the Power of the Dragon Father and The Man of Two Bodies In Alternate Dimensions, Grand Marshal of the Academy of Dragonlords and The Hero of the Prophecy."

The main priest said "You Thamketh, Hullahith and Darshan have been selected to enter the Mortal Dimension. You will masquerade as students of Ashan Institute of Magic participating in a Sixwizard Tournament and visit A school Known as Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry .Puga has entered that dimension so you must slay him and another being called Voldemort who is a human who has gained a version of immortality. You shall also meet Demigods And Egyptian Magicians So be wary for if anyone learns of your true Identity Chaos shall occur."

I got on my dragon and Hullahith got on his Zykraim and Thamketh got on his dragon and flew into the portal.

I saw a sudden explosion of purple light and saw we had entered limbo space. A grey part of this area I saw led to the True Dimension. The True Dimension was a place in which all of us were nothing but works of fiction. Right now someone in that world could be writing a story about me dying and I would not know it. I felt terrified about that place and the worst thing about it was that the creatures of that dimension did not even know they influenced the life of other dimensions. Having that kind of power and not knowing about it would terrify me. The Mortal Dimension's entrance on the other hand was green. I told Hullahith And Thamketh "Follow me" and I went through.

When we entered the dimension some sort of weird song started playing , it was like 'Pu-eou" like that nice music those Gallifreyan frogs on Mt Tampe did. Any way we finally landed in some sort of forest. I told my friends that we must change our names to sound more convincing. Hullahith said "I think I shall name myself Richard Maxson". Thamketh said "I shall name myself John Danse". I said" I shall keep my name of Darshan and my family name shall be Skywalker."

We then conjured robes which had A.I.M written on them in bold letters and which were black. We changed our bodies and faces to resemble 20 year old humans. The robes also covered all of our weapons and armor so they were not visible. I then told my friends "We must find accommodation until the first of September for that is when the Sixwizard Tournament begins."So we then walked out of the forest and I saw a city in the distance.

. My friends and I teleported close to it and we were in awe for the entire city seemed to be made of a substance which resembled rock. It seemed to be illuminated by various objects which were strange to me. I read a board which said "Welcome to London." I theorized this place must be called London. We walked through London until we came on to a street which was filled with humans. A few of them gave funny glances at us. It was broad daylight. We saw a tavern by which all these people were passing and not even taking notice of it. It seemed to be an old and dismal place but nevertheless we entered.

We were greeted by the sight of many people wearing black robes and playing a game of some stones hitting each other and releasing smelly gases.

We went to the tavern owner and asked him "What is this place?".He said "My boys This is the Leaky Cauldron the finest wizard bar in all of London. Well the only one to be precise." I said "We are here to participate in the Sixwizard tournament and require accommodation." At this everyone in the bar turned to look at us. The Barman said ,spluttering "Why welcome ,welcome, welcome to Britain I hope you enjoy the place and hope you are impressed by our infrastructure. Oops what am I saying you must have just entered London , follow me please I shall guide you to your rooms."

Saying this he took us to our rooms which were quite comfortable.

It had to be remained to be seen how these wizards operated and how efficient they were.

We then went to sleep after eating dinner.


	2. Oh NoIt's The 3rd Great Prophecy

_**In this chapter The Seven plus three shall be introduced along with the Magicians.**_

 _ **Thanks for following this story and for the extremely supportive reviews. There is a Percy Jackson and Greek Gods reference here . Try to find it.**_

 _ **Please Rate AND Review Darsassan out!**_

Camp Half-Blood , Long Island Sound, New York

1st person Point of View of Percy Jackson

Me, Annabeth, Jason, Piper, Leo, Calypso, Frank, Hazel, Nico and Will were on the beach near Camp Half-Blood and we were having a picnic. Mr. D was in a good mood and had let us take the magically refilling plates and goblets of food and drinks .

Annabeth and I were relaxing on a mat eating Turkey sandwiches with Swiss Cheese which were super delicious.

Jason was chasing Piper across the beach. Jason was cheating by flying closer while Piper would charmspeak him to stop. It was extremely ridiculous .

Calypso was singing some Greek tunes while Leo was on fire and for some reason was splashing himself with lemonade. HEY don't judge him it's the kind of thing Leo always does. It was a hot day so we gave them a wide berth.

Frank on the other hand had turned into a porpoise .Yep ... A porpoise and was cackling like an actual dolphin and was swimming the waves. Hazel was on Arion and was making Arion run across the water at the speeds of a normal horse.

Nico and Will however were kissing each other so intensely it was uncomfortable for anyone to look at them.

Just for fun I created a huge wave and made it land on Leo. His flame was extinguished and he looked extremely pissed. Everyone was laughing. For a demigod it was an extreeemely fun day .Yep, No monsters to fight, No defeating titans or primordial gods and definitely no prophecies. Jason had just finished his shrine business. Leo had returned a week ago with Piper and Jason beating him up for troubling them. Frank and Hazel had come from Camp Jupiter just to spend the weekend with us.

"All of you come to the Big House, Chiron is calling you." Travis said.

Definitely no prophecies. Right. Right?.Right?! I Might have jinxed myself.

Annabeth said "Come on Seaweed Brain we can't keep Chiron waiting forever."

I replied "Yeah right Wise Girl let's go slowly."

After much grumbling and cursing from all of us , especially Will and Nico who were really angry cause their makeout time was cut we made it to the Big House.

Chiron said "I wish to tell you something but on one condition. That you must not scream or destroy property or do any such thing."

We said "Alright."We knew what was coming.

He said "There has been a 3rd Great Prophecy."

Immediately Nico, Will, Leo, Piper and Jason started groaning. Frank turned into a Gorilla and started grunting while Hazel started making gold pop up all over the place. Annabeth started making an expression like a constipated duck which was extremely undignified for a daughter of the Wisdom Goddess and I made the water running in the faucet splash itself on Chiron.

Chiron spluttered and said "Please behave yourself this prophecy is important. It does not contain anything from our Greek Culture."

At This we all became silent. Annabeth asked "Then what is it about?"

He said "It goes like this:

 _9 half-bloods shall masquerade as wizards_

 _and participate in a tournament of the brave_

 _to protect the boy-who-lived from the evil riddle_

 _The immortal gate shall open,_

 _The Ancient ones shall arrive_

 _Magicians shall assist them_

 _but beware for there are darker forces_

 _which make the Earth Mother look tame._

 _Befriend the Ancient Ones_

 _and Defeat the Dog of Evil and the 9 shall prevail."_

I asked "What do you mean masquerade as wizards?"

Chiron said "There are this type of people who are different than the normal mortals. They were blessed by Hecate and can utilize magic. They are hosting what is supposed to be a Triwizard Tournament which originally consisted of three Wizarding schools which has now been increased to the same 3 Wizarding schools and 3 more 'Wizarding' Schools. You shall be masquerading as students from a school of magic from the USA ."

I noticed Chiron using quotes when he said 3 more 'Wizarding Schools.'.

Chiron said "Only the headmaster and a few of the teachers know the true identity of you. Wizarding history books have been modified by Hecate so no nosy parker who wishes to know the origin of our school shall find anything wrong with us."

Jason said "Who are these Ancient Ones? according to the prophecy we should befriend them for they are not evil. And what is this dog of evil which makes Gaia look tame?"His voice cracked when he said dog of evil.

Chiron said "Even the gods do not know who the Ancient Ones are. And they also do not know who or what is this dog of evil. "This made us dumbstruck.

Piper asked " Who is this boy-who-lived and what is this Evil Riddle?"

Chiron said "The Evil Riddle is a Mortal named Tom Marvolo Riddle With a corrupted soul that has made him immortal in a way. The boy-who lived is a wizard who has defeated Voldemort which is the Wizarding name for Tom. He did it when he was a baby. The boy-who-lived is called Harry Potter and is in the 4th year of the school where the tournament is held."

Nico screamed in outrage "Tom Marvolo Riddle is the most messy case of the Mortal Goal to become immortal. This nincompoop split his soul into 7 parts which made him essentially immortal. He causes my father headaches every alternate month which sends him into a tizzy about how much paperwork this guy will require once he finally dies."

Will put his arm around Nico and comforted him.

Leo said "Whoa calm down my man! And Yeah Chiron Who are these magicians?"

Me and Annabeth looked at each other cause we think we knew who they were. When Chiron said "Ask Percy and Annabeth." They all looked at us. Me and Annabeth told them of our adventures with the Kanes and that Egyptian Mythology also existed which caused a few of them to squeal in protest.

Hecate suddenly appeared in the middle of the room. She said " All of you are prepared are you not. The name of the school will be Greco-American Institute of Magic. Now prepare to go. For I will take you to a place where I shall give you your magical powers and give you sufficient knowledge on how to use them."

We went and changed our clothes and fine tuned our weapons. I remembered The Kanes inviting me and Annabeth to their Nome once. We met their students and were impressed by their magic. As me and Annabeth were discussing them Carter, Sadie, Walt and Zia appeared. I gave Walt a Brofist while Annabeth hugged Sadie. We introduced them all to the rest of us. Everybody shook hands. Nico was particularly interested in Walt though that was probably because he was a death god human hybrid.

Hecate asked us if we were ready and we nodded. She teleported us to a room which was gigantic and was made of flat flooring. She faced us and said " Now I Shall gift you all the magic that the wizards possess ", The Kanes and Walt And Zia looked scared but Hecate said " Do Not worry, Your ability to use Egyptian hieroglyphic Magic will not be affected." They sighed in relief . Suddenly a warm feeling occurred inside me. Knowledge of various subjects of magic appeared in my head and I felt powerful.

Hecate said " Now I have gifted you all knowledge of magic up to their 7th year and several more complex spells. I have given the dyslexic of you the ability convert all the words in their textbooks to Greek. You are now also masters of wordless magic. You just have to think of what to do and it will be done." She turned to the Egyptians and said "Your school's name or rather your school system's name is International Academy System of Egyptian Magic." She turned to all of us and said " I have implanted the workings of your school and your school system."

She now said " Now I am giving you the Ability to turn into an animal . Frank of course does not require it." Frank grinned.

She said " Now got to spots 500m away from each other and sit down and meditate do not worry about you ADHD since this is an ability it will not affect you. And Frank shall be at the side over there."

I went to a spot 500 m away from my Wise Girl. I sat down and started meditating about what animal I would like to be. After 30 minutes I realized my animal form and went back to Hecate. Everyone had realized what they would like to be and had assembled there.

Jason started first and turned into a gigantic bird which had electricity crackling around it. It was a thunderbird, I guess it suited him because he was son of the sky.

Annabeth then turned into a big snake which I recognized as a basilisk due to my new knowledge it suited her since the snake was one of Athena's sacred animals.

Hazel turned into a Pegasus which suited her love for horses. Leo turned into a phoenix which was a bird on fire.

Calypso turned into a dragon which was completely green and had horns and scales of emeralds, she could also grow plants instantly with a whack of her tail.

Nico turned into a dragon which seemed to be made of Black bones and had glowing red eyes and whose breath seemed to suck the happiness out of the air.

Will turned into a humanoid creature which had pointy ears. He discovered this increased his healing and archery powers by 200%. He called it a Dark Elf since he was wearing robes of purple.

Sadie turned into a magical ostrich which could perform extremely good martial arts moves and shoot fire from its mouth and could fly faster than a jet..

Carter turned into a griffin with hair which looked like a crown so he insisted on calling it a Royal griffin. It could also fly extremely fast and it's claws could tear through several inches of any metal sheet.

Zia turned into a Big Sea serpent which could move on land and had extremely poisonous fangs and could make itself invulnerable at times.

Walt turned into a humanoid creature which wore a crown of Silver and had Armor of silver like metal. It was a Dread Knight and could manipulate any weapon to float in mid air and fight with extreme skill and could also teleport around like anything.

I thought about my animal and turned into a gigantic blue dragon which had breath which could freeze and burn and poison and electrocute enemies alternatively . My scales were unbreakable and I could fly faster than anything and my reflexes were epic fast for a dragon my size. Even when the others were looking at me they seemed terrified..

Hecate said "Wonderful, you have all put amazing displays and Percy's was hands down the best . It even sent jitters down my spine. Now I shall Teleport you to a Hotel In London Where you have to wait until next week for the school to begin."

Will said " I've been meaning to ask, what is the name of the school? Chiron never told us."

Hecate said " For Good Reason, It's name is Hogwarts."

We all started laughing so hard each of us nearly got a heart attack.


	3. The Sixwizard Tournament

_**You guys must be excited. Finally Harry enters. Do not forget to rate and review. Darsassan out.! I have plagiarized from the original book but that does not mean I own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson. So for one last time I do not Own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson Or Kane chronicles. The 1st Book Series is the property of one Joanne Rowling whose author name is J K Rowling and the 2nd Book Series and the 3rd Book Series are the property of one Richard Russell Riordan whose author name is Rick Riordan. Now Darsassan Is Really Out!**_

Hogwarts, Undisclosed Location, Scotland, United Kingdom

3rd Person Point of View of Harry Potter

Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Harry could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain.

Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase.

"Blimey," said Ron, shaking his head and sending water everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak — ARRGH!" A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped — narrowly missing Hermione, it burst at Harry's feet, sending a wave of cold water over his sneakers into his socks.

People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire. Harry looked up and saw, floating twenty feet above them, Peeves the Poltergeist, a little man in a bell-covered hat and orange bow tie, his wide, malicious face contorted with concentration as he took aim again. "PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice.

"Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling. "Ouch — sorry, Miss Granger —" "That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat. "Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles. "Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall.

"Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived. "I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves —"Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely. "Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd.

"Into the Great Hall, come on!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face. The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors at the far side of the Hall, next to Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost. Pearly white and semitransparent, Nick was dressed tonight in his usual doublet, but with a particularly large ruff, which served the dual purpose of looking extra-festive, and insuring that his head didn't wobble too much on his partially severed neck. "Good evening," he said, beaming at them.

"Says who?" said Harry, taking off his sneakers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving." The Sorting of the new students into Houses took place at the start of every school year, but by an unlucky combination of circumstances, Harry hadn't been present at one since his own. He was quite looking forward to it. Just then, a highly excited, breathless voice called down the table. "Hiya, Harry!" It was Colin Creevey, a third year to whom Harry was something of a hero. "Hi, Colin," said Harry warily.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!" "Er — good," said Harry. "He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?" "Er — yeah, all right," said Harry. He turned back to Hermione, Ron, and Nearly Headless Nick. "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" he said. He was judging by the Weasleys, all seven of whom had been put into Gryffindor. "Oh no, not necessarily," said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical.

You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?" Harry looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too, and Harry couldn't think who else was missing. "Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers. They had never yet had a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had lasted more than three terms.

Harry's favorite by far had been Professor Lupin, who had resigned last year. He looked up and down the staff table. There was definitely no new face there. "Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious. Harry scanned the table more carefully. Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department.

On Professor Sinistra's other side was the sallow-faced, hook-nosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape — Harry's least favorite person at Hogwarts. Harry's loathing of Snape was matched only by Snape's hatred of him, a hatred which had, if possible, intensified last year, when Harry had helped Sirius escape right under Snape's overlarge nose — Snape and Sirius had been enemies since their own school days. On Snape's other side was an empty seat, which Harry guessed was Professor McGonagall's.

Next to it, and in the very center of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought. Harry glanced up at the ceiling too. It was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and he had never seen it look this stormy.

Black and purple clouds were swirling across it, and as another thunderclap sounded outside, a fork of lightning flashed across it. "Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff." The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. If Harry, Ron, and Hermione were wet, it was nothing to how these first years looked. They appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed.

All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school — all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in what Harry recognized as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it looked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent.

His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. When he had lined up with his terrified-looking peers, he caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, I fell in the lake! He looked positively delighted about it. Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty, patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

 _A thousand years or more ago,_

 _When I was newly sewn,_

 _There lived four wizards of renown,_

 _Whose names are still well known:_

 _Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor_

 _, Fair Ravenclaw, from glen_

 _, Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,_

 _Shrewd Slytherin, from fen._

 _They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,_

 _They hatched a daring plan_

 _To educate young sorcerers_

 _Thus Hogwarts School began._

 _Now each of these four founders_

 _Formed their own house, for each_

 _Did value different virtues In the ones they had to teach_

 _. By Gryffindor, the bravest were Prized far beyond the rest;_

 _For Ravenclaw, the cleverest Would always be the best;_

 _For Hufflepuff, hard workers were Most worthy of admission;_

 _And power-hungry Slytherin Loved those of great ambition._

 _While still alive they did divide_

 _Their favorites from the throng,_

 _Yet how to pick the worthy ones_

 _When they were dead and gone?_

' _Twas Gryffindor who found the way,_

 _He whipped me off his head_

 _The founders put some brains in me_

 _So I could choose instead!_

 _Now slip me snug about your ears,_

 _I've never yet been wrong,_

 _I'll have a look inside your mind_

 _And tell where you belong!_

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. "That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," said Harry, clapping along with everyone else. "Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one." Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment. "When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!" A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool. "RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat. Stewart Ackerley took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. Harry caught a glimpse of Cho, the Ravenclaw Seeker, cheering Stewart Ackerley as he sat down. For a fleeting second, Harry had a strange desire to join the Ravenclaw table too. "Baddock, Malcolm!" "SLYTHERIN!" The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers; Harry could see Malfoy clapping as Baddock joined the Slytherins.

Harry wondered whether Baddock knew that Slytherin House had turned out more Dark witches and wizards than any other. Fred and George hissed Malcolm Baddock as he sat down. "Branstone, Eleanor!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" "Cauldwell, Owen!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" "Creevey, Dennis!" Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table.

About twice as tall as a normal man, and at least three times as broad, Hagrid, with his long, wild, tangled black hair and beard, looked slightly alarming — a misleading impression, for Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew Hagrid to possess a very kind nature. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide — "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother. "Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!" "Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!" "Wow!" said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

"Dennis! Dennis! See that boy down there? The one with the black hair and glasses? See him? Know who he is, Dennis?" Harry looked away, staring very hard at the Sorting Hat, now Sorting Emma Dobbs. The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L's.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach. "Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Nearly Headless Nick as "Madley, Laura!" became a Hufflepuff. " 'Course it is, if you're dead," snapped Ron. "I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," said Nearly Headless Nick, applauding as "McDonald, Natalie!" joined the Gryffindor table. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?" Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row.

"Pritchard, Graham!" "SLYTHERIN!" "Quirke, Orla!" "RAVENCLAW!" And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away. "About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate. Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. "Tuck in." "Hear, hear!" said Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes. Nearly Headless Nick watched mournfully as Harry, Ron, and Hermione loaded their own plates. "Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato. "You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier." "Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak. "Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously.

He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast — well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council — the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance — but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down." The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent specter covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves. "Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly.

"So what did he do in the kitchens?" "Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits —" Clang. Hermione had knocked over her golden goblet. Pumpkin juice spread steadily over the tablecloth, staining several feet of white linen orange, but Hermione paid no attention. "There are house-elves here?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at Hogwarts?" "Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred." "I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning . . . see to the fires and so on. . . . I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?" Hermione stared at him. "But they get paid?" she said. "They get holidays, don't they? And — and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?" Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!" Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her. "Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops — sorry, 'Arry —" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself!" "Slave labor," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor." And she refused to eat another bite. The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass.

Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings. "Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!" But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up.

When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard. "So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" said Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. "Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year." "What?" Harry gasped. He looked around at Fred and George, his fellow members of the Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely.

I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts —" But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped. The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel.

Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye — and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness. The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Harry couldn't hear.

He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side. The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody." It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him. "Moody?" Harry muttered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice. "What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his face?" "Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination. Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot. Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year." "You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar . . ." Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. "Er — but maybe this is not the time . . . no . . ." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament . . . well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities — until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued." "Death toll?" Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

Now Dumbledore took a deep breath and said " However there have been some changes in the amount of tasks and the number of schools participating." At this Malfoy looked stunned , he seemed shocked that his Father had not told him there would be a different number of schools.

Dumbledore continued " I am proud to Announce that our Ministry has come to an agreement with The American Democracy of Wizards and Witches and with the Head Nome of the International Academy System of Egyptian Magic and the fabled Ashan Kingdom of Magic to allow the Greco-American Institute of Magic , The Brooklyn Nome of the International Academy System of Egyptian Magic and the Ashan Institute of Magic to participate in what is to be known as The Sixwizard Tournament."

Everybody started clapping. Dumbledore placated us with his hands and started speaking again. He said "The heads of Beauxbatons ,Durmstrang, Greco-American Institute of Magic, Brooklyn Nome of International Academic System of Egyptian Magic and Ashan Institute of Magic will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Sixwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money." "I'm going for it!" Fred Weasley hissed down the table, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion.

At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbors. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more. "Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Sixwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age — that is to say, seventeen years or older — will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration.

This" — Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious — "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces.

"I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. "The delegations from Beauxbatons , Durmstrang, G A I M, Brooklyn Nome of IASEM and the Ashan Institute of Magic will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!" Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody.

There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall. "They can't do that!" said George Weasley, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?" "They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!" "Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons . . ." "Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament. "Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry. "Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George. . . ." "Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron. "Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase. "Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?" "What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older. . . . Dunno if we've learned enough. . . ." "I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George. "I expect my grandmother want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honor. I'll just have to — oops. . . ."

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, but Neville's memory was notoriously poor. Harry and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armor at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily. "Shut it, you," said Ron, banging down its visor as they passed. They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress. "Password?" she said as they approached. "Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables. Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look, and Harry distinctly heard her mutter "Slave labor," before bidding them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory. Harry, Ron, and Neville climbed up the last, spiral staircase until they reached their own dormitory, which was situated at the top of the tower. Five four-poster beds with deep crimson hangings stood against the walls, each with its owner's trunk at the foot.

Dean and Seamus were already getting into bed; Seamus had pinned his Ireland rosette to his headboard, and Dean had tacked up a poster of Viktor Krum over his bedside table. His old poster of the West Ham football team was pinned right next to it. "Mental," Ron sighed, shaking his head at the completely stationary soccer players. Harry, Ron, and Neville got into their pajamas and into bed. Someone — a house-elf, no doubt — had placed warming pans between the sheets. It was extremely comfortable, lying there in bed and listening to the storm raging outside. "I might go in for it, you know," Ron said sleepily through the darkness, "if Fred and George find out how to . . . the tournament . . . you never know, do you?"

"S'pose not. . . ." Harry rolled over in bed, a series of dazzling new pictures forming in his mind's eye. . . . He had hoodwinked the impartial judge into believing he was seventeen . . . he had become Hogwarts champion . . . he was standing on the grounds, his arms raised in triumph in front of the whole school, all of whom were applauding and screaming . . . he had just won the Sixwizard Tournament. . . . Cho's face stood out particularly clearly in the blurred crowd, her face glowing with admiration. . . . Harry grinned into his pillow, exceptionally glad that Ron couldn't see what he could.

Hogwarts, undisclosed location, Scotland, United Kingdom

3rd Person Point of View Of Harry Potter

Early next morning, Harry woke with a plan fully formed in his mind, as though his sleeping brain had been working on it all night. He got up, dressed in the pale dawn light, left the dormitory without waking Ron, and went back down to the deserted common room. Here he took a piece of parchment from the table upon which his Divination homework still lay and wrote the following letter:

Dear Sirius, I reckon I just imagined my scar hurting, I was half asleep when I wrote to you last time. There's no point coming back, everything's fine here. Don't worry about me, my head feels completely normal.

\- Harry

He then climbed out of the portrait hole, up through the silent castle (held up only briefly by Peeves, who tried to overturn a large vase on him halfway along the fourth-floor corridor), finally arriving at the Owlery, which was situated at the top of West Tower. The Owlery was a circular stone room, rather cold and drafty, because none of the windows had glass in them. The floor was entirely covered in straw, owl droppings, and the regurgitated skeletons of mice and voles. Hundreds upon hundreds of owls of every breed imaginable were nestled here on perches that rose right up to the top of the tower, nearly all of them asleep, though here and there a round amber eye glared at Harry.

He spotted Hedwig nestled between a barn owl and a tawny, and hurried over to her, sliding a little on the dropping-strewn floor. It took him a while to persuade her to wake up and then to look at him, as she kept shuffling around on her perch, showing him her tail. She was evidently still furious about his lack of gratitude the previous night. In the end, it was Harry suggesting she might be too tired, and that perhaps he would ask Ron to borrow Pigwidgeon, that made her stick out her leg and allow him to tie the letter to it.

"Just find him, all right?" Harry said, stroking her back as he carried her on his arm to one of the holes in the wall. "Before the dementors do." She nipped his finger, perhaps rather harder than she would ordinarily have done, but hooted softly in a reassuring sort of way all the same. Then she spread her wings and took off into the sunrise. Harry watched her fly out of sight with the familiar feeling of unease back in his stomach. He had been so sure that Sirius's reply would alleviate his worries rather than increasing them. "That was a lie, Harry," said Hermione sharply over breakfast, when he told her and Ron what he had done. "You didn't imagine your scar hurting and you know it."

"So what?" said Harry. "He's not going back to Azkaban because of me." "Drop it," said Ron sharply to Hermione as she opened her mouth to argue some more, and for once, Hermione heeded him, and fell silent. Harry did his best not to worry about Sirius over the next couple of weeks. True, he could not stop himself from looking anxiously around every morning when the post owls arrived, nor, late at night before he went to sleep, prevent himself from seeing horrible visions of Sirius, cornered by dementors down some dark London street, but between times he tried to keep his mind off his godfather. He wished he still had Quidditch to distract him; nothing worked so well on a troubled mind as a good, hard training session. On the other hand, their lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than ever before, particularly Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts.

To their surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects. "But — but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said — to use it against another human was —" "Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swiveling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way — when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely — fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Harry and Ron grinned at each other. They knew Hermione would rather eat bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson. Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. Harry watched as, one by one, his classmates did the most extraordinary things under its influence. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state.

Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it. "Potter," Moody growled, "you next." Harry moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, "Imperio!" It was the most wonderful feeling. Harry felt a floating sensation as every thought and worry in his head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. He stood there feeling immensely relaxed, only dimly aware of everyone watching him. And then he heard Mad-Eye Moody's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of his empty brain: Jump onto the desk . . . jump onto the desk. . . . Harry bent his knees obediently, preparing to spring. Jump onto the desk. . . . Why, though? Another voice had awoken in the back of his brain.

Stupid thing to do, really, said the voice. Jump onto the desk. . . . No, I don't think I will, thanks, said the other voice, a little more firmly . . . no, I don't really want to. . . . Jump! NOW ! The next thing Harry felt was considerable pain. He had both jumped and tried to prevent himself from jumping — the result was that he'd smashed headlong into the desk, knocking it over, and, by the feeling in his legs, fractured both his kneecaps. "Now, that's more like it!" growled Moody's voice, and suddenly, Harry felt the empty, echoing feeling in his head disappear. He remembered exactly what was happening, and the pain in his knees seemed to double.

"Look at that, you lot . . . Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention — watch his eyes, that's where you see it — very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!" "The way he talks," Harry muttered as he hobbled out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class an hour later (Moody had insisted on putting Harry through his paces four times in a row, until Harry could throw off the curse entirely), "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second." "Yeah, I know," said Ron, who was skipping on every alternate step. He had had much more difficulty with the curse than Harry, though Moody assured him the effects would wear off by lunchtime. "Talk about paranoid . . ."

Ron glanced nervously over his shoulder to check that Moody was definitely out of earshot and went on. "No wonder they were glad to get shot of him at the Ministry. Did you hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted 'Boo' behind him on April Fools' Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?" All the fourth years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work they were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned. "You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles.

"Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer —" "We don't take O.W.L.s till fifth year!" said Dean Thomas indignantly. "Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!" Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself. Harry and Ron were deeply amused when Professor Trelawney told them that they had received top marks for their homework in their next Divination class.

She read out large portions of their predictions, commending them for their unflinching acceptance of the horrors in store for them — but they were less amused when she asked them to do the same thing for the month after next; both of them were running out of ideas for catastrophes. Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had them writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor Snape was forcing them to research antidotes. They took this one seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked them to read three extra books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms. Even Hagrid was adding to their workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted, and as part of their "project," suggested that they come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behavior.

"I will not," said Draco Malfoy flatly when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large toy out of his sack. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks." Hagrid's smile faded off his face. "Yeh'll do wha' yer told," he growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book. . . . I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy." The Gryffindors roared with laughter. Malfoy flushed with anger, but apparently the memory of Moody's punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop him from retorting.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits; seeing Hagrid put down Malfoy was particularly satisfying, especially because Malfoy had done his very best to get Hagrid sacked the previous year. When they arrived in the entrance hall, they found themselves unable to proceed owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Ron, the tallest of the three, stood on tiptoe to see over the heads in front of them and read the sign aloud to the other two:

 **SIXWIZARD TOURNAMENT**

THE DELEGATIONS FROM BEAUXBATONS, DURMSTRANG, G.A.I.M, BROOKLY NOME OF I.A.S.E.M AND A.I.M WILL BE ARRIVING AT 6 O'CLOCK ON FRIDAY THE 30TH OF OCTOBER

STUDENTS WILL RETURN THEIR BAGS AND BOOKS TO THEIR DORMITORIES AND ASSEMBLE IN FRONT OF THE CASTLE TO GREET OUR GUESTS BEFORE THE WELCOMING FEAST.

"Brilliant!" said Harry. "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to poison us all!" "Only a week away!" said Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him. . . ." "Cedric?" said Ron blankly as Ernie hurried off. "Diggory," said Harry. "He must be entering the tournament." "That idiot, Hogwarts champion?" said Ron as they pushed their way through the chattering crowd toward the staircase.

"He's not an idiot. You just don't like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch," said Hermione. "I've heard he's a really good student — and he's a prefect." She spoke as though this settled the matter. "You only like him because he's handsome," said Ron scathingly. "Excuse me, I don't like people just because they're handsome!" said Hermione indignantly. Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like "Lockhart!" The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where Harry went: the Sixwizard Tournament. Rumors were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves.

Harry noticed too that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.

Other members of the staff seemed oddly tense too. "Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus. When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight.

Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down beside Fred and George at the Gryffindor table. Once again, and most unusually, they were sitting apart from everyone else and conversing in low voices. Ron led the way over to them. "It's a bummer, all right," George was saying gloomily to Fred. "But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever." "Who's avoiding you?" said Ron, sitting down next to them. "Wish you would," said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption. "What's a bummer?" Ron asked George. "Having a nosy git like you for a brother," said George.

"You two got any ideas on the Sixwizard Tournament yet?" Harry asked. "Thought any more about trying to enter?" "I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," said George bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon." "Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" said Ron thoughtfully. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. We've done dangerous stuff before. . . ." "Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," said Fred. "McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."

"Who are the judges?" Harry asked. "Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage." She noticed them all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, "It's all in Hogwarts, A History. Though, of course, that book's not entirely reliable. A Revised History of Hogwarts would be a more accurate title. Or A Highly Biased and Selective History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School."

"What are you on about?" said Ron, though Harry thought he knew what was coming. "House-elves!" said Hermione, her eyes flashing. "Not once, in over a thousand pages, does Hogwarts, A History mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!" Harry shook his head and applied himself to his scrambled eggs. His and Ron's lack of enthusiasm had done nothing whatsoever to curb Hermione's determination to pursue justice for house-elves. True, both of them had paid two Sickles for a S.P.E.W. badge, but they had only done it to keep her quiet. Their Sickles had been wasted, however; if anything, they seemed to have made Hermione more vociferous. She had been badgering Harry and Ron ever since, first to wear the badges, then to persuade others to do the same, and she had also taken to rattling around the Gryffindor common room every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.

"You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?" she kept saying fiercely. Some people, like Neville, had paid up just to stop Hermione from glowering at them. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say, but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke. Ron now rolled his eyes at the ceiling, which was flooding them all in autumn sunlight, and Fred became extremely interested in his bacon (both twins had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge). George, however, leaned in toward Hermione.

"Listen, have you ever been down in the kitchens, Hermione?" "No, of course not," said Hermione curtly, "I hardly think students are supposed to —" "Well, we have," said George, indicating Fred, "loads of times, to nick food. And we've met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world —" "That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" Hermione began hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls. Harry looked up at once, and saw Hedwig soaring toward him.

Hermione stopped talking abruptly; she and Ron watched Hedwig anxiously as she fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder, folded her wings, and held out her leg wearily. Harry pulled off Sirius's reply and offered Hedwig his bacon rinds, which she ate gratefully. Then, checking that Fred and George were safely immersed in further discussions about the Triwizard Tournament, Harry read out Sirius's letter in a whisper to Ron and Hermione.

 _Nice try, Harry. I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar._

 _-Sirius_

"Why d'you have to keep changing owls?" Ron asked in a low voice. "Hedwig'll attract too much attention," said Hermione at once. "She stands out. A snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever he's hiding . . . I mean, they're not native birds, are they?" Harry rolled up the letter and slipped it inside his robes, wondering whether he felt more or less worried than before. He supposed that Sirius managing to get back without being caught was something. He couldn't deny either that the idea that Sirius was much nearer was reassuring; at least he wouldn't have to wait so long for a response every time he wrote.

"Thanks, Hedwig," he said, stroking her. She hooted sleepily, dipped her beak briefly into his goblet of orange juice, then took off again, clearly desperate for a good long sleep in the Owlery. There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried up to Gryffindor Tower, deposited their bags and books as they had been instructed, pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines. "Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair." Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait. "Follow me, please," said Professor McGonagall. "First years in front . . . no pushing. . . ." They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest. Harry, standing between Ron and Hermione in the fourth row from the front, saw Dennis Creevey positively shivering with anticipation among the other first years.

"Nearly six," said Ron, checking his watch and then staring down the drive that led to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?" "I doubt it," said Hermione. "How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky. "I don't think so . . . not from that far away. . . ." "A Portkey?" Ron suggested. "Or they could Apparate — maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?" "You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?" said Hermione impatiently. They scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent, and quite as usual. Harry was starting to feel cold. He wished they'd hurry up. . . . Maybe the foreign students were preparing a dramatic entrance. . . . He remembered what Mr. Weasley had said back at the campsite before the Quidditch World Cup: "always the same — we can't resist showing off when we get together. . . ."

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers — "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!" "Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions. "There!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest. Something large, much larger than a broomstick — or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks — was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely. "Don't be stupid . . . it's a flying house!" said Dennis Creevey. Dennis's guess was closer. . . . As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, they saw a gigantic, powder blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring towards them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.

The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed — then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year's foot, the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes. Harry just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.

A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Harry saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage — a shoe the size of a child's sled — followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman he had ever seen in his life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.

Harry had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid; he doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights. Yet somehow — maybe simply because he was used to Hagrid — this woman (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd) seemed even more unnaturally large. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck.

She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers. Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman. Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it. "My dear Madame Maxime," he said.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." "Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you well?" "In excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore. "My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her. Harry, whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime.

They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what Harry could see of them (they were standing in Madame Maxime's enormous shadow), they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces. " 'As Karkaroff and ze others arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked. "They should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet them or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses —" "Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other — er — charges." "Skrewts," Ron muttered to Harry, grinning. "My steeds require — er — forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong. . . ." "I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?" "It will be attended to," said Dumbledore, also bowing. "Come," said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus Finnigan said, leaning around Lavender and Parvati to address Harry and Ron. "Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," said Harry. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?" "Maybe they've escaped," said Ron hopefully. "Oh don't say that," said Hermione with a shudder. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds. . . ." They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party and the other parties to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then — "Can you hear something?" said Ron suddenly. Harry listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed. . . . "The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!" From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water — except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all.

Some disturbance was taking place deep in the center; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks — and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor. . . . What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool . . . and then Harry saw the rigging. . . . "It's a mast!" he said to Ron and Hermione. Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight.

It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

People were disembarking; they could see their silhouettes passing the lights in the ship's portholes. All of them, Harry noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crabbe and Goyle . . . but then, as they drew nearer, walking up the lawns into the light streaming from the entrance hall, he saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the man who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort: sleek and silver, like his hair. "Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own. "Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and Harry noticed that his smile did not extend to his eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good. . . . Viktor, come along, into the warmth . . . you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold. . . ." Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. As the boy passed, Harry caught a glimpse of a prominent curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He didn't need the punch on the arm Ron gave him, or the hiss in his ear, to recognize that profile. "Harry — it's Krum!"

Now Harry said "You're right Ron! Now I can't wait to see the next school."

Many students were alternatively looking at the sky and the lake in hope of finding out how the next school would arrive. Suddenly lots of Thunder and Lightning started to be heard and seen. A big cloud was approaching Hogwarts. On it Harry could clearly see the silhouette of 11 people. Many people gasped. The Giant Squid surfaced from the Lake and started to wave or what appeared to seem like waving. On it there were 10 people who were wearing some medieval armor beneath a cloak. The 11th person was a Woman with a regal face who looked like someone not to be dealt with lightly.

1st Person View of Harry Potter

She was wearing an old fashioned apparently Greek style dress and was holding a Torch in One Hand and a wand in the other. She greeted Dumbledore as " Aah, Dumbledore It is nice to be here and I hope the tournament is as exciting as we were told it was going to be." Dumbledore replied " Thank you Headmistress Carla. Why don't you come on in." Behind her we observed her students.

There was a student who was extremely muscular and handsome and had black hair and eyes which were green but more like the sea. His hand was entwined with a Blonde girl with Grey Eyes which made you think that she was thinking a million things at the same time. I read their name tags It was Percy And Annabeth. Their eyes also looked like they had been to hell and back.( **Oh if harry only knew.)**

I saw a stunningly beautiful girl with brunette hair and kaleidoscopic eyes which made the true colors of her eyes impossible to discern she was whispering in to the ears of a blonde Guy who was wearing glasses and seemed like a natural leader and was muscular and seemed to be the strong silent type. They were Piper and Jason.

I saw a tall, muscular bloke who looked a bit like a Chinese person and had an aura of a leader around him as well. He was hugging a dark skinned girl with gold- brownish hair and black eyes who seemed sad at something. They were Frank And Hazel.

I saw a boy who looked like he would become The Twin's best friend in no time. He had a mischievous demeanor and curly black hair and had what looked like motor oil on his fingers. He seemed to be reassuring a girl who was stunning. They were Leo and Calypso.

I saw two boys holding hands. At this Ron turned away his head. It seemed he was still old fashioned. I however had no qualms about people who liked people of their own gender.

The 1st boy had lots of lean muscle and had bags under his eyes. He had black air and gave off an aura of sadness and misery. He was looking very happily at the other boy. The other one had blond hair and seemed to remind me of summer and doctors for some reason. They were Nico and Will

We were then waiting for the Egyptian School when suddenly a gigantic pyramid appeared out of nowhere with lightning crackling around it 4 teenagers and a middle aged man stepped out of it.

The first boy was dark skinned and had extremely short black hair. He was wearing a weird set of robes. He had a wand and also a sickle and a big staff. He was staring dreamily at his girlfriend who had a middle eastern look and also had a sickle , a normal wand and a staff. She was extremely beautiful as well. They were Carter Kane and Zia Rashid according to their ivory nametags.

There was another girl who was fair skinned and had blonde hair and believe it or not she looked like a miniature version of Annabeth. She was holding hands with a muscular dark skinned bloke who was wearing an amulet around his hand . He had brown eyes and gave an aura like Nico. I noticed the Girl having one as well. They were Sadie Kane and Walt Stone. Many people seemed surprised that she was related to Carter but they did not show much.

The Headmaster spoke with Dumbledore and they laughed. It seemed that Sadie and Carter knew Annabeth and Percy since they said hi to each other.

We were waiting for A.I.M when suddenly two dragons and a creature resembling a dragon appeared out of know where. We drew our wands and the other school members collectively drew their varied weapons. We then saw that the dragons and the creature had riders. It astonished me that any student could be powerful enough to tame a dragon.

The riders got down and I saw they seemed to be in their 20's. They all looked extremely handsome and were muscular and tall. They went and spoke to Dumbledore. Dumbledore seemed to have respect in his eyes. He said " Excellent let us all go inside."

I thought " This is going to be interesting."


	4. The Goblet of Fire And Revelations

**The last one was gigantic I know. I pumped it out like a mad machine cause I was re reading the book and the end was kind of anti- climactic so here is this one. The end of the 3rd chapter mind you. As always don't forget to rate and review. And I do not own Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Heroes of Olympus or the Kane Chronicles. I only own My oc's .That count of how much Camp Hb has is because I'm counting camp Jupiter as well since according to me they are one now. Darsassan out**

Great Hall, Hogwarts, Undisclosed Location , Scotland, United Kingdom

3rd Person Point of view of Harry Potter

I don't believe it!" Ron said, in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "Krum, Harry! Viktor Krum!" "For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," said Hermione. "Only a Quidditch player?" Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Hermione — he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!".

As they recrossed the entrance hall with the rest of the Hogwarts students heading for the Great Hall, Harry saw Lee Jordan jumping up and down on the soles of his feet to get a better look at the back of Krum's head. Several sixth-year girls were frantically searching their pockets as they walked — "Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me —" "D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

Harry said " Yeah, but did you get a load of the people from AIM and IASEM AND GAIM They are so few of them . I mean Gaim has 10 people. Iasem has 4 people and Aim just has 3."

Hermione said " Harry, they must be really powerful if only they arrived. I've been reading up about Iasem and they have extremely few members. It seems they accept only people who have the bloodlines of ancient Egyptian pharaohs because they have their own brand of magic."

Harry snorted. He was thinking about how typical it was for hermione. Harry said " What about Gaim then? Why do they only have 10 people?" Hermione said " I've read about them too. They accept only half-bloods for some reason. They have only 500 people for now. But each of them specializes in various things. They all believe in Greek gods and also use enchanted medieval weapons along with their wands."

Ron sniggered. Harry said " What about Aim then? The other 2 schools have reasons for so less people but what about them? They only have 3 blokes." Hermione said " There is not much about them in any book to be honest. But it is said that to gain entry to it is most prestigious and the students there are extremely powerful."Harry said " Oh well. Come on."

Ron persisted " I am going to get Krum's autograph.""Really," Hermione said loftily as they passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick. "I'm getting his autograph if I can," said Ron. "You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?" "Nope, they're upstairs in my bag," said Harry. They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down.

Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. The students from Beauxbatons had chosen seats at the Ravenclaw table. The students of Gaim had sat with us at Gryffindor Table. The Students of Iasem went and sat at Hufflepuff. The students of Aim however had conjured 3 meticulously carven wooden chairs and were relaxing on them.

The students from Beauxbatons were looking around the Great Hall with glum expressions on their faces. Three of them were still clutching scarves and shawls around their heads. "It's not that cold," said Hermione defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?" "Over here! Come and sit over here!" Ron hissed. "Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space —" "What?" "Too late," said Ron bitterly. Viktor Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students had settled themselves at the Slytherin table.

Harry could see Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking very smug about this. As he watched, Malfoy bent forward to speak to Krum. "Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy," said Ron scathingly. "I bet Krum can see right through him, though . . . bet he gets people fawning over him all the time. . . . Where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry . . . I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp bed."

Hermione snorted. "They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," said Harry. The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest; a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed. The students from Gaim however seemed to be not to surprised at the ceiling and were not at all interested in the plates. They seemed to be surveying the hall like those generals in those Muggle movies. Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his moldy old tailcoat in honor of the occasion. Harry was surprised to see that he added six chairs, three on either side of Dumbledore's

"But there are only four extra people," Harry said. "Why's Filch putting out six chairs, who else is coming?" Eh?" said Ron vaguely. He was still staring avidly at Krum. When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Headmistress Carla and Nome Head Amos.

When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh. "No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, bristling at her. "The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!" He sat down, and Harry saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation. The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Harry had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding. "Bouillabaisse," said Hermione. "Bless you," said Ron. "It's French," said Hermione, "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice." "I'll take your word for it," said Ron, helping himself to black pudding. The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely 40 additional students there.; perhaps it was because their differently colored uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts' robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep blood red. Hagrid sidled into the Hall through a door behind the staff table twenty minutes after the start of the feast.

He slid into his seat at the end and waved at Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a very heavily bandaged hand. "Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called. "Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily. "Yeah, I'll just bet they are," said Ron quietly. "Looks like they've finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers." At that moment, a voice said, "Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" It was the girl from Beauxbatons who had laughed during Dumbledore's speech. She had finally removed her muffler.

A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth. Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise. "Yeah, have it," said Harry, pushing the dish toward the girl. "You 'ave finished wiz it?" "Yeah," Ron said breathlessly. "Yeah, it was excellent." The girl picked up the dish and carried it carefully off to the Ravenclaw table. Ron was still goggling at the girl as though he had never seen one before. Harry started to laugh. The sound seemed to jog Ron back to his senses. "She's a veela!" he said hoarsely to Harry. "Of course she isn't!" said Hermione tartly. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!" But she wasn't entirely right about that.

As the girl crossed the Hall, many boys' heads turned, and some of them seemed to have become temporarily speechless, just like Ron. "I'm telling you, that's not a normal girl!" said Ron, leaning sideways so he could keep a clear view of her. "They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!" "They make them okay at Hogwarts," said Harry without thinking. Cho happened to be sitting only a few places away from the girl with the silvery hair.

"When you've both put your eyes back in," said Hermione briskly, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived." She was pointing up at the staff table. The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr. Crouch, Percy's boss, was next to Madame Maxime. "What are they doing here?" said Harry in surprise. "They organized the Sixwizard Tournament didn't they?" said Hermione. "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."

When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table. The girl who looked like a veela appeared to have eaten enough, however, and did not come over to get it. Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again.

A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Harry felt a slight thrill of excitement, wondering what was coming. Several seats down from them, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration. "The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Sixwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket —"

"The what?" Harry muttered. Ron shrugged. "— just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr. Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" — there was a smattering of polite applause — "and Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports." There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable.

He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, Harry thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush mustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard. "Mr. Bagman and Mr. Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Sixwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime , Headmistress Carla and Headmaster Amos on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts." At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch." Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's. "The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be six tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways . . . their magical prowess — their daring — their powers of deduction — and, of course, their ability to cope with danger.

" At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing. "As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Sixwizard Cup The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire." Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open.

Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames. Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall. "Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore.

"Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. "To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall.

Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line. "Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end.

The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion.

Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all." "An Age Line!" Fred Weasley said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall.

"Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing — it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!" "But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," said Hermione, "we just haven't learned enough . . ." "Speak for yourself," said George shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?" Harry thought briefly of Dumbledore's insistence that nobody under seventeen should submit their name, but then the wonderful picture of himself winning the Sixwizard Tournament filled his mind again. . . . He wondered how angry Dumbledore would be if someone younger than seventeen did find a way to get over the Age Line. . . . "Where is he?" said Ron, who wasn't listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum.

"Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?" But this query was answered almost instantly; they were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students. "Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?" Harry saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on. "Professor, I vood like some vine," said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully. "I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy —" Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Harry stopped to let him walk through first. "Thank you," said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at him. And then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw comprehension dawn on a few of their faces.

The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harry's forehead. "Yeah, that's Harry Potter," said a growling voice from behind them. Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The color drained from Karkaroff's face as Harry watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him. "You!" he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him. "Me," said Moody grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway." It was true; half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup. Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face. Dumbledore , Headmistress Carla, Headmaster Amos and the students from Gaim and Iasem and Aim were still in the Great Hall. Harry forgot all about them and went to his dormitory and fell on the bed , exhausted.

Great Hall, Hogwarts, Undisclosed location, Scotland

1st Person Point of View of Percy Jackson

I was impressed by Hogwarts. I mean, how could anyone not be ? It had a roof which replicated the sky perfectly. It's architecture was good, Wow Annabeth's Ambition must have really rubbed off on me. I feel all jittery. Anyway Our entrance was orchestrated by Hecate and that was good. If I was planning our entrance it would probably be a disaster. I was also impressed by the fact that Hogwarts had a giant squid. It was very friendly. Well, to me at least. Dumbledore had recognized Hecate and had given her a fake name which she seemed to really like. They were chatting along with Carter's Uncle. What really intrigued me was the 3 students who had come on dragons. Usually in my life, When someone lands in front of you riding dragons it's not a good sign.

But these 3 gave off an aura of power beyond anything I had ever felt before. Even when I was in the presence of the Gods or when I was fighting Titans , Giants or even Gaia Herself I didn't feel this much power radiating off them. There was this one dude who seemed more powerful than the other two. He was easily half a foot taller than me and believe it or not I am tall guy. He had black eyes which looked like he had experienced things worse than My trip of Tartarus and that was mind numbingly terrifying. He had a well honed body. The other dudes were Similarly built mind you.

Dumbledore said " Well, I have heard all of your exploits and I know what you are. I request you to not reveal your true selves to anyone. And especially not to Harry or his best friends. It will cause a massive upheaval in the Wizarding world."

I replied " Yes Professor Dumbledore."

Hecate was staring intently at the 3 dudes from that Ashan Institute of Magic. The lead guy did not even flinch. He said " As well as you may try to read my mind, young Hecate it is futile to try to read my mind or try to figure out who I am." I jumped when I heard him calling Hecate Young. I wanted to know how old was this guy. He said "I am Darshan, Master of All magic, King of the kingdom of Ygg-Chall and Lightoren, Lord of Dark Elves , Master of The Darkness Dragon, Slayer of Kha-Beleth, Sky-Burner, The Ancient One of the Wraiths , Wielder of the Angelic Alliance ,User of the Power of the Dragon Father and The Man of Two Bodies In Alternate Dimensions, Grand Marshal of the Academy of Dragonlords and The Hero of the Prophecy. And as for my age young Percy Jackson I am 8376 years old. You can call me Darshan Skywalker."

Hecate was extremely shocked and so were the Kanes and the others. Only Dumbledore did not seem surprised.

His buddy on the right said "I am Thamketh, Master Elementalist, Master of Earth, Water , Air , Fire, Magma, Ice, Energy, Storm , Psychic and Magic elementals of the 4th plane. Master of Earth and Nature Magic. Master Healer .Master of the Last Gold Dragon. Lord of the Green Isles. Wielder of Sylvanna's Wrath, User Of Sylvanna's cloak and Owner of Glidralil's Robes and Chief Druid of the Shaman Community. I am 8123 years old. You can call me John Danse"

His buddy on the left said " I am Hullahith , Grand Mage of the Silver Cities, Tamer and Master of the Wind Zykraim which was terrorizing the Great Bonspiel Desert, Master of Wind and Earth Magic, Owner of Tar-GlIlsim's Lost Robes ,Wielder of Tar-Ministir's Staff ,Survivor of the Last Alliance, Lord of Hullatun and the honorary PindaRaja of Tar-Zyket's University. I am 8122 years old . You can call me Richard Maxson."

I was shocked that they were so old. Dumbledore said "Alright, off you go there are special dorms." We went."


	5. Champions Galore

**Alright for the people who are reading my story. Thank you for your support. This chapter will see the champion selection. The next chapter will be about the villains. Possibly tomorrow or maybe day is a few big changes to the book but not that much. Weird location this time. As always I do not own any of these book series. All I own in this story are my Oc's. Don't Forget to rate and review. My buddy has become really suspicious of his role in this story. so I feel like laughing whenever he looks at me and is like Hey tell me who I am. My other buddy is just laughing at his expression and is Saying my story is good. Anyway Darsassan Out!**

Next Morning

Great Hall, Hogwarts, Undisclosed location, Scotland, United Kingdom, Europe, Earth, Solar System, Mortal Dimension, Milky Way Galaxy, Universe 1, The Multiverse

3rd Person Point of View of Harry Potter.

As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have breakfasted late. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, were not alone in rising much earlier than they usually did on weekends. When they went down into the entrance hall, they saw about twenty people milling around it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked a third-year girl eagerly. "All the Durmstrang lot, and all The Gaim students and possibly all the Iasem students but no one from Aim." she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet." "Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harry.

"I would've if it had been me . . . wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?" Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, he saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited. "Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Just taken it." "What?" said Ron. "The Aging Potion, dung brains," said Fred. "One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older." "We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure this is going to work, you know," said Hermione warningly "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this." Fred, George, and Lee ignored her. "Ready?" Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then — I'll go first —" Harry watched, fascinated, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words Fred Weasley — Hogwarts.

Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop. Then, with the eyes of every person in the entrance hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line. For a split second Harry thought it had worked — George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred — but next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been thrown by an invisible shot-putter.

They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor, and to add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards. The entrance hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards. "I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall.

He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours." Just then the three students from Aim had arrived. Darshan, the leader of his group came near Fred and George and smiled. He then just waved his hand and both Fred's beard and George's Beard were gone.

Nearly all the students in the great hall clapped cause even the 7th years did not know wandless magic. Dumbledore just smiled again. The 3 students from Aim walked forward and put each of their names into the Goblet and conjured 3 very comfortable looking recliners and took some plates and put some Bacon , some omelettes and some toast and went and sat on the recliners. Harry noticed that the students from Gaim and Iasem had arrived in the great hall and were sitting at Gryffindor and Hufflepuff respectively. Harry saw the muscular guy who resembled him a bit was eating a lot of food which was for some reason blue. Harry said " Hey Ron, Someone to match your appetite has finally arrived." Ron smiled and said " Not likely, Harry."

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner. Harry led the way over to Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who might be entering. "There's a rumor going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean told Harry.

"That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth." Harry, who had played Quidditch against Warrington, shook his head in disgust. "We can't have a Slytherin champion!" "And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," said Seamus contemptuously. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks." "Listen!" said Hermione suddenly.

People were cheering out in the entrance hall. They all swiveled around in their seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way. A tall black girl who played Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Angelina came over to them, sat down, and said, "Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!" "You're kidding!" said Ron, looking impressed. "Are you seventeen, then?" asked Harry. " 'Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?" said Ron. "I had my birthday last week," said Angelina.

"Well, I'm glad someone from Gryffindor's entering," said Hermione. "I really hope you get it, Angelina!" "Thanks, Hermione," said Angelina, smiling at her. "Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory," said Seamus, causing several Hufflepuffs passing their table to scowl heavily at him. "What're we going to do today, then?" Ron asked Harry and Hermione when they had finished breakfast and were leaving the Great Hall. "We haven't been down to visit Hagrid yet," said Harry. "Okay," said Ron, "just as long as he doesn't ask us to donate a few fingers to the skrewts." A look of great excitement suddenly dawned on Hermione's face. "I've just realized — I haven't asked Hagrid to join S.P.E.W. yet!" she said brightly.

"Wait for me, will you, while I nip upstairs and get the badges?" "What is it with her?" said Ron, exasperated, as Hermione ran away up the marble staircase. "Hey, Ron," said Harry suddenly. "It's your friend . . ." The students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds, among them, the veela-girl. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly. Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

"What d'you reckon'll happen to the ones who aren't chosen?" Ron muttered to Harry as the veela-girl dropped her parchment into the Goblet of Fire. "Reckon they'll go back to school, or hang around to watch the tournament?" "Dunno," said Harry. "Hang around, I suppose. . . . Madame Maxime's staying to judge, isn't she?" When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the hall and out onto the grounds again. "Where are they sleeping, then?" said Ron, moving toward the front doors and staring after them. A loud rattling noise behind them announced Hermione's reappearance with the box of S.P.E.W. badges.

"Oh good, hurry up," said Ron, and he jumped down the stone steps, keeping his eyes on the back of the veela-girl, who was now halfway across the lawn with Madame Maxime. As they neared Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the mystery of the Beauxbatons' sleeping quarters was solved. The gigantic powder-blue carriage in which they had arrived had been parked two hundred yards from Hagrid's front door, and the students were climbing back inside it.

The elephantine flying horses that had pulled the carriage were now grazing in a makeshift paddock alongside it. Harry knocked on Hagrid's door, and Fang's booming barks answered instantly " 'Bout time!" said Hagrid, when he'd flung open the door. "Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!" "We've been really busy, Hag —" Hermione started to say, but then she stopped dead, looking up at Hagrid, apparently lost for words. Hagrid was wearing his best (and very horrible) hairy brown suit, plus a checked yellow-and-orange tie. This wasn't the worst of it, though; he had evidently tried to tame his hair, using large quantities of what appeared to be axle grease.

It was now slicked down into two bunches — perhaps he had tried a ponytail like Bill's, but found he had too much hair. The look didn't really suit Hagrid at all. For a moment, Hermione goggled at him, then, obviously deciding not to comment, she said, "Erm — where are the skrewts?" "Out by the pumpkin patch," said Hagrid happily. "They're gettin' massive, mus' be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin' each other." "Oh no, really?" said Hermione, shooting a repressive look at Ron, who, staring at Hagrid's odd hairstyle, had just opened his mouth to say something about it.

"Yeah," said Hagrid sadly. " 'S' okay, though, I've got 'em in separate boxes now. Still got abou' twenty." "Well, that's lucky," said Ron. Hagrid missed the sarcasm. Hagrid's cabin comprised a single room, in one corner of which was a gigantic bed covered in a patchwork quilt. A similarly enormous wooden table and chairs stood in front of the fire beneath the quantity of cured hams and dead birds hanging from the ceiling. They sat down at the table while Hagrid started to make tea, and were soon immersed in yet more discussion of the Sixwizard Tournament. Hagrid seemed quite as excited about it as they were.

"You wait," he said, grinning. "You jus' wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task . . . ah, but I'm not supposed ter say." "Go on, Hagrid!" Harry, Ron, and Hermione urged him, but he just shook his head, grinning. "I don' want ter spoil it fer yeh," said Hagrid. "But it's gonna be spectacular, I'll tell yeh that. Them champions're going ter have their work cut out. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!" Then Hagrid said, on reflection " Well, s'pose it's the Sixwizard Tournament now. But twice the fun."

They ended up having lunch with Hagrid, though they didn't eat much — Hagrid had made what he said was a beef casserole, but after Hermione unearthed a large talon in hers, she, Harry, and Ron rather lost their appetites. However, they enjoyed themselves trying to make Hagrid tell them what the tasks in the tournament were going to be, speculating which of the entrants were likely to be selected as champions, and wondering whether Fred and George were beardless yet. A light rain had started to fall by mid afternoon; it was very cozy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window, watching Hagrid darning his socks and arguing with Hermione about house-elves — for he flatly refused to join S.P.E.W. when she showed him her badges.

"It'd be doing them an unkindness, Hermione," he said gravely, threading a massive bone needle with thick yellow yarn. "It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insultin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em." "But Harry set Dobby free, and he was over the moon about it!" said Hermione. "And we heard he's asking for wages now!" "Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not sayin' there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of 'em ter do it — no, nothin' doin', Hermione." Hermione looked very cross indeed and stuffed her box of badges back into her cloak pocket. By half past five it was growing dark, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione decided it was time to get back up to the castle for the Halloween feast — and, more important, the announcement of the school champions

"I'll come with yeh," said Hagrid, putting away his darning. "Jus' give us a sec." Hagrid got up, went across to the chest of drawers beside his bed, and began searching for something inside it. They didn't pay too much attention until a truly horrible smell reached their nostrils. Coughing, Ron said, "Hagrid, what's that?" "Eh?" said Hagrid, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. "Don' yeh like it?" "Is that aftershave?" said Hermione in a slightly choked voice. "Er — eau de cologne," Hagrid muttered. He was blushing. "Maybe it's a bit much," he said gruffly. "I'll go take it off, hang on . . . He stumped out of the cabin, and they saw him washing himself vigorously in the water barrel outside the window.

"Eau de cologne?" said Hermione in amazement. "Hagrid?" "And what's with the hair and the suit?" said Harry in an undertone. "Look!" said Ron suddenly, pointing out of the window. Hagrid had just straightened up and turned 'round. If he had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. Getting to their feet very cautiously, so that Hagrid wouldn't spot them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione peered through the window and saw that Madame Maxime and the Beauxbatons students had just emerged from their carriage, clearly about to set off for the feast too. They couldn't hear what Hagrid was saying, but he was talking to Madame Maxime with a rapt, misty-eyed expression Harry had only ever seen him wear once before — when he had been looking at the baby dragon, Norbert.

"He's going up to the castle with her!" said Hermione indignantly. "I thought he was waiting for us!" Without so much as a backward glance at his cabin, Hagrid was trudging off up the grounds with Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons students following in their wake, jogging to keep up with their enormous strides. "He fancies her!" said Ron incredulously. "Well, if they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record — bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton." They let themselves out of the cabin and shut the door behind them. It was surprisingly dark outside. Drawing their cloaks more closely around themselves, they set off up the sloping lawns. "Ooh it's them, look!" Hermione whispered. The Durmstrang party was walking up toward the castle from the lake. Viktor Krum was walking side by side with Karkaroff, and the other Durmstrang students were straggling along behind them.

Ron watched Krum excitedly, but Krum did not look around as he reached the front doors a little ahead of Hermione, Ron, and Harry and proceeded through them. When they entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. Fred and George — clean-shaven again — seemed to have taken their disappointment fairly well. "Hope it's Angelina," said Fred as Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down. "So do I!" said Hermione breathlessly. "Well, we'll soon know!" The Halloween feast seemed to take much longer than usual.

Perhaps because it was their second feast in two days, Harry didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food as much as he would have normally. Like everyone else in the Hall, judging by the constantly craning necks, the impatient expressions on every face, the fidgeting, and the standing up to see whether Dumbledore had finished eating yet, Harry simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions. At long last, the golden plates returned to their original spotless state; there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which died away almost instantly as Dumbledore got to his feet.

On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored. "Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he indicated the door behind the staff table — "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting. . . . A few people kept checking their watches. . . . "Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from Harry.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped. Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white. "The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum." "No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you! The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames. "The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!" "It's her, Ron!" Harry shouted as the girl who so resembled a veela got gracefully to her feet, shook back her sheet of silvery blonde hair, and swept up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. "Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party.

"Disappointed" was a bit of an understatement, Harry thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms. When Fleur Delacour too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next . . . And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment. He said " The champion for the Greco- American Institute of Magic is Percy Jackson. " At this the other students had the exact oppostie reaction of Beauxbatons. They were all whooping and Annabeth was kissing Percy. Percy hugged her one last time and ran to the chamber.

Then The Goblet of Fire turned Red again and shot out the 4th piece of parchment which Dumbledore deftly caught. He said " The champion for the Brooklyn Nome of the International Academy system of Egyptian Magic Sadie Kane." At this her brother and his girlfriend and her boyfriend cheered. Sadie jumped and kissed Walt and ran to the chamber behind the Teacher's Table.

This time, something strange happened. The Goblet turned Purple instead of Red and shot out the Next piece of parchment. Dumbledore caught it and gave it an almost reverent look he said " the champion for Ashan Institute of Magic is Darshan Skywalker." His friends smiled at him and Darshan suddenly vanished . Many students were surprised. Harry guessed that He had teleported into the chamber which would give the others quite a shock.

Now , everyone had become restless because they were obviously waiting for the Hogwarts champion.

Even Harry was holding his breath. "The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!" "No!" said Ron loudly, but nobody heard him except Harry; the uproar from the next table was too great. Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the teachers' table. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again. "Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, Aim, Iasem and Gaim to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —" But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him. The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment. Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out — "Harry Potter."

Harry sat there, aware that every head in the Great Hall had turned to look at him. He was stunned. He felt numb. He was surely dreaming. He had not heard correctly. There was no applause. A buzzing, as though of angry bees, was starting to fill the Hall; some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat. Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet and swept past Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff to whisper urgently to Professor Dumbledore, who bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione; beyond them, he saw the long Gryffindor table all watching him, openmouthed. "I didn't put my name in," Harry said blankly. "You know I didn't." Both of them stared just as blankly back.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall. "Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!" "Go on," Hermione whispered, giving Harry a slight push. Harry got to his feet, trod on the hem of his robes, and stumbled slightly. He set off up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables. It felt like an immensely long walk; the top table didn't seem to be getting any nearer at all, and he could feel hundreds and hundreds of eyes upon him, as though each were a searchlight. The buzzing grew louder and louder. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him.

"Well . . . through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling. Harry moved off along the teachers' table. Hagrid was seated right at the end. He did not wink at Harry, or wave, or give any of his usual signs of greeting. He looked completely astonished and stared at Harry as he passed like everyone else. Harry went through the door out of the Great Hall and found himself in a smaller room, lined with paintings of witches and wizards. A handsome fire was roaring in the fireplace opposite him. The faces in the portraits turned to look at him as he entered. He saw a wizened witch flit out of the frame of her picture and into the one next to it, which contained a wizard with a walrus mustache.

The aged Witch started whispering in his ear. Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, Percy Jackson, Sadie Kane, Fleur Delacour and Darshan Skywalker were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched-up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Percy looked Grim . Sadie was smiling absentmindedly. Darshan however was giving Harry his full attention as if he knew that Harry was coming all along. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when Harry walked in and threw back her sheet of long, silvery hair. "What is it?" she said. "Do zey want us back in ze Hall?" She thought he had come to deliver a message.

Harry didn't know how to explain what had just happened. He just stood there, looking at the six champions. It struck him how very tall all of them were. There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took Harry by the arm and led him forward. "Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Harry's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen . . . lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce — incredible though it may seem — the seventh Sixwizard champion?"

Viktor Krum straightened up. His surly face darkened as he surveyed Harry. Cedric looked nonplussed. He looked from Bagman to Harry and back again as though sure he must have misheard what Bagman had said. Percy looked at Harry and it seemed like he was measuring how good Harry was. Sadie seemed shocked. Darshan however seemed as if he already knew that Harry was coming. Harry was too shocked to register Darshan's looks. Fleur Delacour, however, tossed her hair, smiling, and said, "Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman." "Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Harry's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!" Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Cedric was still looking politely bewildered. Fleur frowned. "But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. " 'E cannot compete. 'E is too young." "Well . . . it is amazing," said Bagman, rubbing his smooth chin and smiling down at Harry. "But, as you know, the age restriction

was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet . . . I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage. . . . It's down in the rules, you're obliged . . . Harry will just have to do the best he —" The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mr. Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, Headmistress Carla ,Headmaster Amos and Professor Snape.

Harry heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door. "Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!" Somewhere under Harry's numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy? Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously. "I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions — or have I not read the rules carefully enough?" He gave a short and nasty laugh. "C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. " 'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust." "We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools." Carla said " I wonder if the boy can compete, I fear for his safety." Amos said " The lad must be scared out of his mind, He wouldn't know what spells to use."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here —" "Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair. Professor Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles. "Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.

"No," said Harry. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows. "Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape. "No," said Harry vehemently. "Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling. "He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that —" "Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging. "It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely "Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!" She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape. "Mr. Crouch . . . Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our — er — objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?" Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice. "We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament." "Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed. "I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff.

He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore." "But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out — it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament —"

"— in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!" "Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?" Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud clunk. "Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody." Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists. "Don't you?" said Moody quietly.

"It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out." "Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime. "I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards —" "If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "but . . . funny thing . . . I don't hear him saying a word. . . ." "Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. " 'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools!

A thousand Galleons in prize money — zis is a chance many would die for!" "Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl. An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man . . . what a thing to say!"

Carla said " It is evident, I know that the Goblet is a extremely well bewitched object and someone may be hoping young Harry here will die." Amos nodded along.

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons." "Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet. . . ." "Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands. "Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" said Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament. . . . I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category. . . ." "You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is — though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously. . . ." "There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff — as you ought to remember. . . ." "Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Harry wondered for a moment whom he was speaking to, but then realized "Mad-Eye" could hardly be Moody's real first name. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction — Karkaroff's face was burning. "How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room.

"It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do. . . ." "Ah, but Dumbly-dorr —" "My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it." Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited. "Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honors?" Mr. Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie.

"Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes . . . the first task . . ." He moved forward into the firelight. Close up, Harry thought he looked ill. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin that had not been there at the Quidditch World Cup. "The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Harry, Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard . . . very important. . . . "The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. "The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over.

Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests." Mr. Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's all, is it, Albus?" "I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Mr. Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?" "No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr. Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment. . . . I've left young Weatherby in charge. . . . Very enthusiastic . . . a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told. . . ." "You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore. "Come on, Barty, I'm "I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff — Madame Maxime — a nightcap?" said Dumbledore. But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. Harry could hear them both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence. "Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Harry glanced at Cedric, who nodded, and they left together. The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality. "So," said Cedric, with a slight smile. "We're playing against each other again!" "I s'pose," said Harry. He really couldn't think of anything to say. The inside of his head seemed to be in complete disarray, as though his brain had been ransacked. "So . . . tell me . . ." said Cedric as they reached the entrance hall, which was now lit only by torches in the absence of the Goblet of Fire. "How did you get your name in?" "I didn't," said Harry, staring up at him. "I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth." staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"Ah . . . okay," said Cedric. Harry could tell Cedric didn't believe him. "Well . . . see you, then." Instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to its right. Harry stood listening to him going down the stone steps beyond it, then, slowly, he started to climb the marble ones. Was anyone except Ron and Hermione going to believe him, or would they all think he'd put himself in for the tournament? Yet how could anyone think that, when he was facing competitors who'd had three years' more magical education than he had — when he was now facing tasks that not only sounded very dangerous, but which were to be performed in front of hundreds of people?

Yes, he'd thought about it . . . he'd fantasized about it . . . but it had been a joke, really, an idle sort of dream . . . he'd never really, seriously considered entering. . . . But someone else had considered it . . . someone else had wanted him in the tournament, and had made sure he was entered. Why? To give him a treat? He didn't think so, somehow. . . . To see him make a fool of himself? Well, they were likely to get their wish. . . . But to get him killed? Was Moody just being his usual paranoid self? Couldn't someone have put Harry's name in the goblet as a trick, a practical joke? Did anyone really want him dead?

Harry was able to answer that at once. Yes, someone wanted him dead, someone had wanted him dead ever since he had been a year old . . . Lord Voldemort. But how could Voldemort have ensured that Harry's name got into the Goblet of Fire? Voldemort was supposed to be far away, in some distant country, in hiding, alone . . . feeble and powerless. . . . Yet in that dream he had had, just before he had awoken with his scar hurting, Voldemort had not been alone . . . he had been talking to Wormtail . . . plotting Harry's murder. . . . Harry got a shock to find himself facing the Fat Lady already. He had barely noticed where his feet were carrying him. It was also a surprise to see that she was not alone in her frame. The wizened witch who had flitted into her neighbor's painting when he had joined the champions downstairs was now sitting smugly beside the Fat Lady. She must have dashed through every picture lining seven staircases to reach here before him. Both she and the Fat Lady were looking down at him with the keenest interest. "Well, well, well," said the Fat Lady, "Violet's just told me everything. Who's just been chosen as school champion, then?" "Balderdash," said Harry dully.

"It most certainly isn't!" said the pale witch indignantly. "No, no, Vi, it's the password," said the Fat Lady soothingly, and she swung forward on her hinges to let Harry into the common room. The blast of noise that met Harry's ears when the portrait opened almost knocked him backward. Next thing he knew, he was being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling. "You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed Fred; he looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed. "How did you do it without getting a beard? Brilliant!" roared George.

"I didn't," Harry said. "I don't know how —" But Angelina had now swooped down upon him; "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor —" "You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Harry!" shrieked Katie Bell, another of the Gryffindor Chasers. "We've got food, Harry, come and have some —" "I'm not hungry, I had enough at the feast —" But nobody wanted to hear that he wasn't hungry; nobody wanted to hear that he hadn't put his name in the goblet; not one single person seemed to have noticed that he wasn't at all in the mood to celebrate. . . . Lee Jordan had unearthed a Gryffindor banner from somewhere, and he insisted on draping it around Harry like a cloak.

Harry couldn't get away; whenever he tried to sidle over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around him closed ranks, forcing another butterbeer on him, stuffing crisps and peanuts into his hands. . . . Everyone wanted to know how he had done it, how he had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line and managed to get his name into the goblet. . . . "I didn't," he said, over and over again, "I don't know how it happened." But for all the notice anyone took, he might just as well not have answered at all. "I'm tired!" he bellowed finally, after nearly half an hour. "No, seriously, George — I'm going to bed —" He wanted more than anything to find Ron and Hermione, to find a bit of sanity, but neither of them seemed to be in the common room. Insisting that he needed to sleep, and almost flattening the little Creevey brothers as they attempted to waylay him at the foot of the stairs, Harry managed to shake everyone off and climb up to the dormitory as fast as he could. To his great relief, he found Ron was lying on his bed in the otherwise empty dormitory, still fully dressed. He looked up when Harry slammed the door behind him. "Where've you been?" Harry said. "Oh hello," said Ron. He was grinning, but it was a very odd, strained sort of grin. Harry suddenly became aware that he was still wearing the scarlet Gryffindor banner that Lee had tied around him. He hastened to take it off, but it was knotted very tightly. Ron lay on the bed without moving, watching Harry struggle to remove it. "So," he said, when Harry had finally removed the banner and thrown it into a corner. "Congratulations." "What d'you mean, congratulations?" said Harry, staring at Ron. There was definitely something wrong with the way Ron was smiling: It was more like a grimace. "Well . . . no one else got across the Age Line," said Ron. "Not even Fred and George. What did you use — the Invisibility Cloak?" "The Invisibility Cloak wouldn't have got me over that line," said Harry slowly. "Oh right," said Ron. "I thought you might've told me if it was the cloak . . . because it would've covered both of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?" "Listen," said Harry, "I didn't put my name in that goblet. Someone else must've done it." Ron raised his eyebrows. "What would they do that for?" "I dunno," said Harry.

He felt it would sound very melodramatic to say, "To kill me." Ron's eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair. "It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth," he said. "If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet, she's already told us all Dumbledore's letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests either. . . ." "I didn't put my name in that goblet!" said Harry, starting to feel angry. "Yeah, okay," said Ron, in exactly the same sceptical tone as Cedric. "Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen you. . . . I'm not stupid, you know." "You're doing a really good impression of it," Harry snapped. "Yeah?" said Ron, and there was no trace of a grin, forced or otherwise, on his face now. "You want to get to bed, Harry. I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo-call or something." He wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster, leaving Harry standing there by the door, staring at the dark red velvet curtains, now hiding one of the few people he had been sure would believe him.


	6. Nosy Potter and Voldemort's Return

**hey guys and gals. Here's the next chapter. the Pug enters. Voldemort is shocked. Nosy Harry.. Terrified Ghosts. Jealous and scared Ron. Puga does not know about Harry horcrux so there are 4 of them really. Please rate and review. I do not own anything except Oc's. Darsassan Out!**

Riddle Manor, Little Hangleton, England, United Kingdom

1st Person Point of View of Tom Marvolo Riddle

"Wormtail", I wheezed. He replied " Yes master, coming." If not for my rudimentary, weak body I would have blasted Wormtail to pieces but He was also one of the two followers of mine. Two followers, for now. I cursed the Potter brat for driving me to this state which was a shadow of my former self. My former death eaters had either wormed their way out of punishment or ended up in Azkaban. The imprisoned ones were probably more loyal. I coughed. What was taking Wormtail so long? Curse Dumbledore, curse the ministry and curse Harry Potter thrice.

"WORMTAIL!" I said as loud as I could. He came in front of me. He said " M- m- m - master , someone has appeared there master." I turned as best as I could. I was , though I won't admit it to anyone , scared. There was a humanoid creature in front of me. It had a helmet which resembled a dog those filthy muggles call Gugs or Pugs or something . It was wearing heavy medieval armor. It had fingers which were extremely long. It removed it's helmet and I was shocked to see it actually had a Pug's head. It said in a low voice " Ah, Tom Marvolo Riddle." I flinched and said " Who are you and how dare you enter the house of me, Lord Voldemort."

He( I decided it was a he) arranged his face in what seemed like a grin and said " I have a proposition for you." I said " It better be a good one, or I shall kill you." He said " I help you get all your followers out of prison, get back your followers who escaped punishment restore your body, kill Harry Potter, combine my army with yours and best of all, give you Immortality." I almost gasped but I stopped it and said " Nobody is This powerful , and if they were they would not do it for free." He laughed and said " Well ,Yes you will have to help me kill the most powerful person of my dimension." I said " This will be difficult but it is a small price to pay to kill the Potter Brat and gain Immortality."

He smiled and took out a knife and made a small cut in the center of his palm which seemed normal. Blood started to flow. I knew what he expected and I did the same and we shook hands. He said " The deal is done." He then waved his hand and I felt a big transformation occur to me. My body returned to its form before the Potter brat destroyed it. I felt slightly more magically powerful. He said " Your horcruxes already give you a big lifespan but I shall reduce your horcruxes to tree to stabilize your soul. I felt him draw my pieces of soul and put them in three orbs.

He said " I will put them in a place which only you shall know and erase my memory of putting them there." I felt that I could draw more magic from my core and utilize my wand better. He waved his hand and they disappeared. He then tapped his head and took the memories and put them in my head. I suddenly doubled over because I had felt a searing hot pain in the area of where my nose was supposed to be and on top of my head. After a few minutes , the pain subsided and I touched my nose area and I was really happy. Finally , Lord Voldemort had a nose again! I then touched the top of my head and rejoiced once more for I had hair. I looked in the mirror and saw that my skin had regained some of its original color but my eyes were still the same. I started laughing like a maniac for the Potter Brat had hell to pay.

Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts , Undisclosed Location, Scotland, United Kingdom.

3rd Person Point of View of Harry Potter

When Harry woke up on Sunday morning, it took him a moment to remember why he felt so miserable and worried. Then the memory of the previous night rolled over him. He sat up and ripped back the curtains of his own four-poster, intending to talk to Ron, to force Ron to believe him — only to find that Ron's bed was empty; he had obviously gone down to breakfast. Harry dressed and went down the spiral staircase into the common room. The moment he appeared, the people who had already finished breakfast broke into applause again. The prospect of going down into the Great Hall and facing the rest of the Gryffindors, all treating him like some sort of hero, was not inviting; it was that, however, or stay here and allow himself to be cornered by the Creevey brothers, who were both beckoning frantically to him to join them. He walked resolutely over to the portrait hole, pushed it open, climbed out of it, and found himself face-to-face with Hermione.

He said " Hermione, I am suspicious of that student from Aim. He seemed like he knew that I was supposed to be a champion. Maybe he put my name in."

Hermione said " Well Harry He might be a Seer or something like that but anyway let's see what he is up to the next weekend alright?."

Harry replied " Alright."

Harry noticed she was holding a stack of toast. "I brought you this. . . . Want to go for a walk?" "Good idea," said Harry gratefully. They went downstairs, crossed the entrance hall quickly without looking in at the Great Hall, and were soon striding across the lawn toward the lake, where the Durmstrang ship was moored, reflected blackly in the water. It was a chilly morning, and they kept moving, munching their toast, as Harry told Hermione exactly what had happened after he had left the Gryffindor table the night before. To his immense relief, Hermione accepted his story without question. "Well, of course I knew you hadn't entered yourself," she said when he'd finished telling her about the scene in the chamber off the Hall. "The look on your face when Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who did put it in? Because Moody's right, Harry . . . I don't think any student could have done it . . . they'd never be able to fool the Goblet, or get over Dumbledore's —" "Have you seen Ron?" Harry interrupted.

Hermione hesitated. "Erm . . . yes . . . he was at breakfast," she said. "Does he still think I entered myself?" "Well . . . no, I don't think so . . . not really," said Hermione awkwardly. "What's that supposed to mean, 'not really'?" "Oh Harry, isn't it obvious?" Hermione said despairingly. "He's jealous!" "Jealous?" Harry said incredulously. "Jealous of what? He wants to make a prat of himself in front of the whole school, does he?" "Look," said Hermione patiently, "it's always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it's not your fault," she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously.

"I know you don't ask for it . . . but — well — you know, Ron's got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you're his best friend, and you're really famous — he's always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many. . . ." "Great," said Harry bitterly. "Really great. Tell him from me I'll swap any time he wants. Tell him from me he's welcome to it. . . . People gawping at my forehead everywhere I go. . . ." "I'm not telling him anything," Hermione said shortly. "Tell him yourself. It's the only way to sort this out." "I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" Harry said, so loudly that several owls in a nearby tree took flight in alarm. "Maybe he'll believe I'm not enjoying myself once I've got my neck broken or —" "That's not funny," said Hermione quietly. "That's not funny at all." She looked extremely anxious.

"Harry, I've been thinking — you know what we've got to do, don't you? Straight away, the moment we get back to the castle?" "Yeah, give Ron a good kick up the —" "Write to Sirius. You've got to tell him what's happened. He asked you to keep him posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. . . . It's almost as if he expected something like this to happen. I brought some parchment and a quill out with me —" "Come off it," said Harry, looking around to check that they couldn't be overheard, but the grounds were quite deserted. "He came back to the country just because my scar twinged. He'll probably come bursting right into the castle if I tell him someone's entered me in the Sixwizard Tournament —" "He'd want you to tell him," said Hermione sternly. "He's going to find out anyway —" "How?" "Harry, this isn't going to be kept quiet," said Hermione, very seriously. "This tournament's famous, and you're famous. I'll be really surprised if there isn't anything in the Daily Prophet about you competing. . . . You're already in half the books about You-Know-Who, you know . . . and Sirius would rather hear it from you, I know he would." "Okay, okay, I'll write to him," said Harry, throwing his last piece of toast into the lake. They both stood and watched it floating there for a moment, before a large tentacle rose out of the water and scooped it beneath the surface. Then they returned to the castle. "Whose owl am I going to use?" Harry said as they climbed the stairs. "He told me not to use Hedwig again." "Ask Ron if you can borrow —" "I'm not asking Ron for anything," Harry said flatly. "Well, borrow one of the school owls, then, anyone can use them," said Hermione. They went up to the Owlery Hermione gave Harry a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink, then strolled around the long lines of perches, looking at all the different owls, while Harry sat down against a wall and wrote his letter. While he was writing his mind kept drifting back to Darshan and how he looked at Harry.

Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts , Undisclosed Location, Scotland, United Kingdom.

1st Person Point of View of Nico Di Angelo.

Percy had just gone for some Weighing of the Wands or something like that and I decided I wanted to see more of Hogwarts. I had just reached the 3rd floor when what I saw filled me with rage. Walt had decided to accompany me. There was a ghost right in front of me. I screamed silently for a while and then controlling my anger said " What are you doing here? You better go back to the Underworld otherwise I shall send you there myself." Saying so I drew my Stygian Iron sword.

He said " My lord, Hecate has a deal with Hades on the souls of Wizards." Saying this he conjured a spectral parchment which I read and understood. My anger faded away and I felt sorry for this ghost because his head was not completely cut. I took out my sword and cut it for him. He said " Thank you My lord , Thank Y-"

"Bloody Hell!" Somebody screamed. I turned around and saw that redhead friend of Harry Potter. He looked at me and said " I am going to Dumbledore, you are a necromancer. I will tell you are doing something and all with Nearly Headless Nick." He looked at me with Triumph. I smiled and summoned a skeletal rat which made him run for the hills.


	7. Weighing of the Instruments

**Sorry for not updating but from now I can only update on Fridays since my work schedule is cluttered. But Even that may become alternate Fridays. Alright. Sorry for the short chapter I will try to make up for it. From now Percy and Gang will have equal point of views. The first task in the next chapter. As always please do not forget to rate and review. I do not own anything in this story except for my oc's. Darsassan out!**

Dungeons, Hogwarts, Undisclosed location, Scotland, United Kingdom

3rd Person Point of View of Harry Potter

Harry had been trying to find more information about Darshan but to no success and was therefore in an extremely bad mood in Potions. Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he'd have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . . "Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one. . . ." Snape's eyes met Harry's, and Harry knew what was coming. Snape was going to poison him. Harry imagined picking up his cauldron, and sprinting to the front of the class, and bringing it down on Snape's greasy head — And then a knock on the dungeon door burst in on Harry's thoughts. It was Colin Creevey; he edged into the room, beaming at Harry, and walked up to Snape's desk at the front of the room.

"Yes?" said Snape curtly. "Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs." Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face. "Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "He will come upstairs when this class is finished." Colin went pink. "Sir — sir, Mr. Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs. . . ." Harry would have given anything he owned to have stopped Colin saying those last few words. He chanced half a glance at Ron, but Ron was staring determinedly at the ceiling. "Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote." "Please, sir — he's got to take his things with him," squeaked Colin. "All the champions —" "Very well !" said Snape. "Potter — take your bag and get out of my sight!"

Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, got up, and headed for the door. As he walked through the Slytherin desks, POTTER STINKS flashed at him from every direction. "It's amazing, isn't it, Harry?" said Colin, starting to speak the moment Harry had closed the dungeon door behind him. "Isn't it, though? You being champion?" "Yeah, really amazing," said Harry heavily as they set off toward the steps into the entrance hall. "What do they want photos for, Colin?" "The Daily Prophet, I think!" "Great," said Harry dully. "Exactly what I need. More publicity." "Good luck!" said Colin when they had reached the right room. Harry knocked on the door and entered. He was in a fairly small classroom; most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle; three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet.

Seven chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them, talking to a witch Harry had never seen before, who was wearing magenta robes. Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner as usual and not talking to anybody. Cedric and Fleur were in conversation. Percy and Sadie seemed to be in a conversation as well. Darshan on the other hand was reading a book which had the words ' Quantum Physics.' on it Harry thought it was strange as he remembered that physics was a muggle subject. Why would such a powerful wizard require knowledge on muggle subjects? This made Harry suspicious.

Fleur looked a good deal happier than Harry had seen her so far; she kept throwing back her head so that her long silvery hair caught the light. A paunchy man, holding a large black camera that was smoking slightly, was watching Fleur out of the corner of his eye. Bagman suddenly spotted Harry, got up quickly, and bounded forward. "Ah, here he is! Champion number seven ! In you come, Harry, in you come . . . nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment —" "Wand weighing?" Harry repeated nervously. "We have to check that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman.

"The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet. . . ." "Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Harry. Her hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jeweled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson. "I wonder if I could have a little word with Harry before we start?" she said to Bagman, but still gazing fixedly at Harry. "The youngest champion, you know . . . to add a bit of color?" "Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is — if Harry has no objection?" "Er —" said Harry.

"Lovely," said Rita Skeeter, and in a second, her scarlet-taloned fingers had Harry's upper arm in a surprisingly strong grip, and she was steering him out of the room again and opening a nearby door. But then Darshan came forward and said to Skeeter in a obviously controlled tone " If I am not mistaken, And I doubt I am I believe that Harry here never agreed to do an interview with you so please do not force him. I am familiar with your work Rita." He then glared at her which cause her to flinch and leave Harry's hand. He asked Harry " Don't Mind Rita, She would have probably twisted what you wouldn't have said into something big."

Harry didn't respond for he was confused. If Darshan had entered his name into the Goblet then why was he helping Harry. Then Harry thought of the Possibility that Darshan may be a seer. Harry was extremely bothered.

Harry noticed that Dumbledore had entered the room. "Dumbledore!" cried Rita Skeeter, with every appearance of delight. "How are you?" she said, standing up and holding out one of her large, mannish hands to Dumbledore. "I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?" "Enchantingly nasty," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat." Rita Skeeter didn't look remotely abashed. "I was just making the point that some of your ideas are a little old-fashioned, Dumbledore, and that many wizards in the street —" "I will be delighted to hear the reasoning behind the rudeness, Rita," said Dumbledore, with a courteous bow and a smile, "but I'm afraid we will have to discuss the matter later.

The Weighing of the Wands is about to start, and it cannot take place if one of our champions is hidden in a broom cupboard." Very glad to get away from Rita Skeeter, Harry hurried back into the room. The other champions were now sitting in chairs near the door, and he sat down quickly next to Cedric, looking up at the velvet-covered table, where seven of the eight judges were now sitting — Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr. Crouch, Headmistress Carla, Headmaster Amos and Ludo Bagman. Rita Skeeter settled herself down in a corner; Harry saw her slip the parchment out of her bag again, spread it on her knee, suck the end of the Quick-Quotes Quill, and place it once more on the parchment. "May I introduce Mr. Ollivanders?" said Dumbledore, taking his place at the judges' table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your instruments to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Harry noticed he said instruments rather than wands. Harry looked around, and with a jolt of surprise saw an old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. Harry had met Mr. Ollivander before — he was the wand-maker from whom Harry had bought his own wand over three years ago in Diagon Alley. "Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander, stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room. Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand. "Hmmm . . ." he said. He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.

"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches . . . inflexible . . . rosewood . . . and containing . . . dear me . . ." "An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's." So Fleur was part veela, thought Harry, making a mental note to tell Ron . . . then he remembered that Ron wasn't speaking to him. "Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands . . . however, to each his own, and if this suits you . . ." Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip. "Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand. "Mr. Diggory, you next."

Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her. "Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn . . . must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches . . . ash . . . pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition. . . . You treat it regularly?" "Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning. Harry looked down at his own wand. He could see finger marks all over it. He gathered a fistful of robe from his knee and tried to rub it clean surreptitiously. Several gold sparks shot out of the end of it. Fleur Delacour gave him a very patronizing look, and he desisted.

Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said, "Mr. Krum, if you please." Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duckfooted, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes. "Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I . . . however . . ." He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes. "Yes . . . hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees . . . quite rigid . . . ten and a quarter inches . . . Avis!" The hornbeam wand let off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight. "Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand.

"Now Mr. Jackson please come forward with the weapons You shall use." Ollivander said.  
Percy kept his wand in front of Mr. Ollivander and took out a pen as well. Ollivander said." Hmm... a unique wand this one is! It is of twelve inches with a core of ... my ,my... a core of Nundu fur hair and it's wood is banyan tree. This is a truly unique combination of a wand wood and a wand core and it is beyond even my skill." He then said " Aqua Erecto." A tidal wave of water came out of the wand. Ollivander must not have been expecting that. Dumbledore dried the water and dried himself and the rest of us.

Strangely Percy and Darshan were not at all wet. Ollivander then returned the wand to Percy. Percy then uncapped his pen which became a sword. Many of us jumped at the sight of a sword. Ollivander said " The only thing I can decipher from this sword is that it is made of bronze and is made in a Greek style."

Sadie then put forward her wand, and staff. Ollivander said " A wand which is eight inches has a core of an Egyptian ibis ." He said "Avis" and birds came out. He then said " This staff is of ivory "

He then turned to Darshan who said he would not be using any instruments. At this many people were shocked. Ollivander then said ""Which leaves . . . Mr. Potter." Harry got to his feet and walked past Krum to Mr. Ollivander. He handed over his wand. "

Aaaah, yes," said Mr. Ollivander, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember." Harry could remember too. He could remember it as though it had happened yesterday. . . . Four summers ago, on his eleventh birthday, he had entered Mr. Ollivander's shop with Hagrid to buy a wand. Mr. Ollivander had taken his measurements and then started handing him wands to try. Harry had waved what felt like every wand in the shop, until at last he had found the one that suited him — this one, which was made of holly, eleven inches long, and contained a single feather from the tail of a phoenix. Mr. Ollivander had been very surprised that Harry had been so compatible with this wand.

"Curious," he had said, "curious," and not until Harry asked what was curious had Mr. Ollivander explained that the phoenix feather in Harry's wand had come from the same bird that had supplied the core of Lord Voldemort's. Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort's wand was something it couldn't help — rather as he couldn't help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn't about to tell the room about it. He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter's Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

Mr. Ollivander spent much longer examining Harry's wand than anyone else's. Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Harry, announcing that it was still in perfect condition. "Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now — or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end —" Feeling that at last something had gone right today, Harry got up to leave, but the man with the black camera jumped up and cleared his throat. "Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?" "Er — yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Harry again. "And then perhaps some individual shots." The photographs took a long time

. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, whom Harry would have thought would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur at the front, but Rita Skeeter kept hurrying forward and dragging Harry into greater prominence. Then she insisted on separate shots of all the champions. At last, they were free to go. Harry went down to dinner. Hermione wasn't there — he supposed she was still in the hospital wing having her teeth fixed. He ate alone at the end of the table, then returned to Gryffindor Tower, thinking of all the extra work on Summoning Charms that he had to do. Up in the dormitory, he came across Ron. "You've had an owl," said Ron brusquely the moment he walked in. He was pointing at Harry's pillow. The school barn owl was waiting for him there. "Oh — right," said Harry. "And we've got to do our detentions tomorrow night, Snape's dungeon," said Ron.

He then walked straight out of the room, not looking at Harry. For a moment, Harry considered going after him — he wasn't sure whether he wanted to talk to him or hit him, both seemed quite appealing — but the lure of Sirius's answer was too strong. Harry strode over to the barn owl, took the letter off its leg, and unrolled it.

Harry —

 _I can't say everything I would like to in a letter, it's too risky in case the owl is intercepted — we need to talk face-to-face. Can you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November? I know better than anyone that you can look after yourself and while you're around Dumbledore and Moody I don't think anyone will be able to hurt you. However, someone seems to be having a good try. Entering you in that tournament would have been very risky, especially right under Dumbledore's nose. Be on the watch, Harry. I still want to hear about anything unusual. Let me know about the 22nd of November as quickly as you can._

 _Sirius_

Harry was deep in thought about Sirius, the tournament and mysterious Darshan.


	8. The Spectaculary Dangerous Potion

**I managed to get a free day so enjoy! as always I don't own anything in this story except for my original characters .The First task and the end of the potion will be in the next one. Again, sorry for the short chapter. Please Rate and Review and enjoy it! Darsassan Out!**

Special Dorm, Hogwarts, Undisclosed Location , Scotland, United Kingdom

1st Person Point Of View of Annabeth Chase

I was still unbelieving about Hogwarts' magical architecture which varied almost every day. I had gone on a tour of the school and found it contained moving staircases, trick walls, vanishing steps, talking suits of armor and other such magical marvels. I was also fascinated by the classes and how they were conducted. I wanted Percy to improve his skills in magic as there was no way to find out what was the First Task without cheating. But Percy as usual showed his usual ADHD self by frolicking with the giant squid which was quite bad as the first task was only three weeks away.

An even more shocking thing which had caused an upheaval at Olympus was the discovery of beings more powerful than Gaia. Some of the Gods had accepted the news whole heartedly but the more powerful ones including the Big Three were wary of them. I myself found them quite interesting and marveled at the amount of information they could teach me if they wanted. They all seemed quite disregarding of the amount of power they possessed.

Anyway I called out to Percy "Come on, Seaweed Brain we gotta go. Our Potions class will occur soon."

Percy whined and said " Come on, Wise Girl, fifteen more minutes."

I said " Perseus Jackson! If you do not come out of the water right now no kisses for a month."

This made Percy jump and he quickly dried himself and ran to me. We went inside the castle and reached the dungeons only a couple minutes before it started. Percy was acing Potions due to his natural ability of controlling several liquids which allowed him to brew potions super fast. I however could only use shortcut methods due to my extensive knowledge of ingredients. Forgive my lack of unseeming modesty. The Potions Master was loathed by Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors due to his over favourism of the Slytherins and his stereotypical attitudes towards muggleborns

He drawled " Ah and Mr. Jackson have arrived", he continued " sit down sit down."

He then said " Today we are going to attempt to produce a potion not created in an extremely long time. Though it will be beyond the skill of any of you, you will be graded on how close you come to creating it. It will be finished in a month" At this many people groaned. He then said " As this is a double period we shall first attempt to concoct a Volubilis Potion."

He then waved his wand and the instructions appeared on the board. It took me five minutes to decipher it and this was what it read"

 _ **Ingredients:**_

 _ **Honeywater**_

 _ **Mint Sprigs**_

 _ **Stewed Mandrake**_

 _ **Syrup of Hellbore**_

 _ **Procedure:**_

 _ **To brew this potion, one has to heat the initial mix of ingredients until it turns red, then green.**_

 _ **Next, the potion-maker has to add Honeywater until the liquid turns pink.**_

 _ **The brew has to be heated again, this time until it turns orange.**_

 _ **When mint sprigs are added, the potion turns into a shade of green.**_

 _ **The potion has to be heated once more, until it turns blue.**_

 _ **Then, more mint sprigs are to be added.**_

 _ **By this time the potion should be have turned pink again.**_

 _ **Stewed Mandrake is to be added next, at which point the potion turns orange.**_

 _ **A small amount of Syrup of Hellebore should be added next, turning the potion blue.**_

 _ **To finish the brew, one has to heat the potion until it's red and heat it some more until it turns a pleasant yellow.**_

 _ **Once finished, the potion should release some sparks.**_

He then said " You may begin."

I realized that this was an extremely easy potion. The whole class finished it in record time for one of Snape's classes. Snape was not impressed but took all the potions which were of excellent quality and put them in a cauldron and stored them.

He then said, grinning in a weird manner "Now time for the next potion, the Potion of Mana."

At this I and Hermione gasped. She was the only other intellectual in this class. Snape then said " This Potion was last successfully created in the year 1246 by a Spanish Warlock. All attempts to recreate it have been unsuccessful . It was so powerful that it could make any wizard know wandless magic for a month and have significant magical power increase for a year."

I knew this.

 **Note: The Ancients are separate to the Ancient Ones which are my original characters.**

Snape then read out the Ingredients.

"

 _ **Twelve Griffin Claws**_

 _ **Twenty Peacock Feathers**_

 _ **Two Hundred grams of Octopus Powder**_

 _ **Five Scales of Dragons**_

 _ **Three Unicorn Horns**_

 _ **One Phoenix Feather**_

 _ **Eighty Milliliters of Ptolemy**_

 _ **A piece of A Lethifold's cloak**_

 _ **A piece of A Dementor's cloak**_

 _ **A drop of an Ancient's Tear**_

"

He then waved his wand and the ingredients flew out of his personal stocks and landed on out tables.

He then read out the procedure "

 _ **Fill your cauldron to three fourth of its level with water.**_

 _ **Crush the Griffin Claws to a fine powder and add it with the Octopus Powder into the Cauldron.**_

 _ **The Potion will now turn Blue.**_

 _ **Dip the Dragon scales and the Peacock Feathers in Ptolemy and put them in the cauldron.**_

 _ **The Potion should turn to an emerald green color.**_

 _ **Take the Phoenix Feather and brush it across both the cloak pieces fifty times.**_

 _ **The Phoenix Feather will have turned green and the cloak pieces will have turned red and violet respectively.**_

 _ **Put them all in the potion and stir it anti-clockwise for ten minutes.**_

 _ **Then stir it clockwise for twenty minutes.**_

 _ **The Potion should have turned Black.**_

 _ **Next, stir the potion clockwise and anti-clockwise on every alternate day for two weeks.**_

 _ **After the stipulated time amount of two weeks it should be a golden color if the instructions are followed correctly.**_

 _ **Then the tear of the Ancient must be added with delicate care in the centre of the cauldron.**_

 _ **It will turn into the color of steel after this.**_

 _ **Be warned for if you do not add the Tear correctly there is a good chance of every living thing in an area of four hundred meters being turned into a tree and all non organic substances will be converted into rubber."**_

Many people gulped at the end of this. Snape then said " Start."

This time Percy could not manipulate the potion for it required delicate precision work. After an hour of hard work only me, Percy, Hermione, a boy named Bloated Zambezi or something and Harry had successfully made it turn black.

I could not help but feel excited for the end of this potion. Even Snape himself looked impressed. Even Snape had been concocting it and it had also turned black. But now I had one thing on my mind to help Percy learn for the First Task.


End file.
